LANC: 


LLiS  HOWARD 


jrsity  of  California 
uthern  Regional 
library  Facility 


WWV.  OF  CAM*.  IJnifMHY.  TOS 


TONY,  THE    MAID 


H  novelette 


BY 

BLANCHE  WILLIS  HOWARD 

AUTHOR   OP   "ONE   SUMMER"    "GUENN"    ETC. 


Vo 


3 


ILLUSTRATED 


Ad  bonam  finem  recta  omnis  via 


Copyright,  1887,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS. 

Alt  righti  reserved. 


CONTENTS. 


O1IAPTEB  PAOK 

I.  MISTRESS  AND  MAID  MEET 1 

II.  TONY  CONVOYS  Miss  AURELIA  TO  CONSTANCE,    19 

III.  TONY  ASCERTAINS  THE  POINTS  OF  THE  COM- 

PASS, AND  DIRECTS  Miss  AURELIA'S  COURSE 

ACCORDINGLY, 39 

IV.  Miss  AURELIA  BECOMES  A  SOCIAL  SUCCESS,  .    53 
V.  Miss  AURELIA  YIELDS  TO  TEMPTATION,    .    .    71 

VI.  THE   ROMANTIC    BOATMAN,   FRITZ    BINDER, 

OVERTHROWS  TONY'S  BEST-LAID  PLANS,    .    90 

VII.  FRITZ  BINDER  TEACHES  THE  INFATUATED  Miss 
AURELIA  TO  Row,  WHILE  TONY  NURSES 
SCHEMES  OF  VENGEANCE, 105 

VIII.  Miss  AURELIA,  TONY,  AND  FRITZ  BINDER  AT 

CROSS-PURPOSES, 119 

IX.  TONY  WINS,   .  .  138 


21.33300 


ILLUSTBATIONS. 


1  MllS.  HlGH-DUDGEON  RAISED  ONE  OP  HER 

DANGLING  SATIN  ARMS" Frontispiece. 

'  WHEN  THE  GRACIOUS  FHAULEIN  EX- 
PLAINS IT  so  NICELY" To  face  p.  28 

'Us  ESCORTED  HER  TO  THE  ENTRANCE 

OF  HIS  REALM" 34 

'WITH  AN  ENGAGING  SMILE  HE  PULLED 

OFF  HIS  CAP" "  88 

' '  A  COLD  WORLD  SPURNS  THIS  HEART 

OP  MINE'" "  118 

"TAKE  ME  AWAY,'  SHE  SAID  FEEBLY"     .         "       152 


TONY,  THE  MAID. 


CHAPTER  I. 
MISTRESS  AND  MAID  MEET. 

To  this  day  Miss  Aurelia  Vanderpool  does 
not  know  exactly  what  happened,  it  was  all  so 
very  sudden.  Then  Tony  never  explained. 
The  episode,  as  related  by  Miss  Aurelia  to  her 
Uncle  John,  in  her  habitually  flurried  but  con- 
scientious manner,  was  approximately  as  fol- 
lows : 

She  was  coming  up  from  the  reading-room 
at  half -past  ten  that  morning.  That  is,  she 
thought  that  it  was  about  half-past  ten ;  but  it 
might  have  been  a  very  little  less,  say  twenty- 
six  or  twenty-seven  minutes  past. 

At  this  point  Uncle  John  began  to  fidget  on 
his  chair,  whereupon  Miss  Aurelia  hurriedly  re- 
sumed her  main  narrative. 

She  was  coming  up,  and  in  the  corridor  she 
had  been  speaking  with  the  head -waiter,  who 
1 


2  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

was  always  so  civil,  and  had  such  distinguished 
manners,  like  a  diplomatic  person — didn't  Un- 
cle John  think  so  ? — and  they  were  discussing 
whether  the  cloud  over  Pilatus  did  or  did  not 
mean  rain,  which  led.  her  to  consider,  as  she 
came  up  the  stairs,  whether  she  should  or  should 
not  change  her  shoes ;  and,  to  the  best  of  her 
recollection,  she  hadn't  another  idea  in  her  head. 

Uncle  John's  face  expressed  unflattering  con- 
fidence in  the  accuracy  of  this  last  statement. 

When,  suddenly,  the  door  of  the  corner 
room  on  the  right  burst  open,  and  she  saw — 
what  she  saw  she  could  not  exactly  say — and 
heard — what  she  heard  she  felt  equally  unable 
to  affirm,  for  she  should  be  grieved,  indeed,  to 
do  any  one,  even  a  perfect  stranger,  injustice, 
and  she  could  not  reconcile  it  with  her  con- 
science to  relate  as  a  fact  what  the  suddenness 
and  her  surprise  might  have  caused  her  to  com- 
pletely misinterpret ;  and  Uncle  John  knew 
that  anything  sudden  was  apt  to  confuse  her, 
and  to  produce  too  powerful  an  impression  for — 

Here  Mr.  John  Vanderpool  rattled  his  news- 
paper, and  interposed, 

"  Never  mind  your  conscience,  Aurelia.  Just 
tell  your  story,  can't  you  ?  The  facts,  my  dear, 
the  facts." 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  3 

She  sighed  profoundly. 

"  That  is  the  trouble,  uncle ;  I  am  not  sure 
that  they  are  facts." 

"Well,  then,  the  probable,  possible,  to  be 
taken  with  all  caution — highest  attenuation  of 
the  facts." 

With  an  air  of  abject  self-reproach  she  con- 
tinued : 

"I  had  just  reached  the  landing  when  the 
door  opposite  flew  open,  and  there  was  the 
countess,  uncle,  looking  more  corpulent  and 
loosely  put  together  than  ever,  in  a  white  wrap- 
per or  a  toilet  -  sacque — it  was  all  so  sudden,  I 
cannot  say  which — but  this  I  know,  positively, 
Uncle  John,  it  was  trimmed  with  Cluny ;  and 
it  was  big  and  white  and  loose  and  flying  in  ev- 
ery direction  ;  and  she  exclaimed  something  in 
German  too  fast  for  me  to  understand  ;  at  least, 
that  is  my  impression ;  and  she  had  a  great  ivo- 
ry hairbrush  in  her  upraised  hand,  and  stood  be- 
tween me  and  the  light ;  and,  oh,  uncle,  there 
was  a  movement  and  there  was  a  sound,  and  the 
little  maid  came  spinning — I  think  I  may  liter- 
ally say  spinning — over  the  threshold ;  and  the 
door  slammed,  and  the  little  maid  picked  her- 
self up ;  she  had  been  flung  or  pushed  or  had 
fallen  on  one  knee ;  and  there  I  stood  and 


4  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

looked  at  her,  and  there  she  stood  and  looked 
at  me." 

Miss  Aurelia  paused,  overcome  with  horror 
and  her  struggle  with  her  conscience. 

"Bravo,  Aurelia!     Go  on,  go  on  1" 

"How  can  you  laugh,  uncle?"  she  gasped. 
"  It  is  so  terrible !" 

"  My  dear,"  rejoined  Mr.  Yanderpool,  unfeel- 
ingly, "  it  is  the  only  interesting  thing  I  have 
ever  known  to  happen  in  Lucerne.  Your  im- 
pressions are  perfect.  What  next  ?" 

She  gave  him  a  pathetic  look,  as  if  she  were 
being  led  sadly  astray,  and  went  on,  mourn- 
fully, 

"  As  soon  as  I  had  recovered  my  presence  of 
mind — for,  indeed,  uncle,  whatever  the  circum- 
stances really  may  have  been,  I  felt  as  if  the 
skies  had  fallen — I  said  to  the  little  maid, '  Are 
you  hurt  ?  Can  I  do  anything  for  you  ?'  I  sup- 
pose I  looked  agitated." 

"I  presume  there  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt 
of  that,  my  dear." 

"At  all  events,  the  little  maid — the  whole 
side  of  her  face  was  red,  uncle — answered  me 
in  her  nice,  cheery,  civil,  comforting  little  way, 
as  if  nothing  unusual  had  happened — and  that 
is  what  makes  me  feel  almost  as  if  I  had  imag- 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  6 

ined  it  all,  Uncle  John,  and  as  if  that  dishev- 
elled, angry  creature,  in  voluminous,  loose  rai- 
ment, were  but  a  kind  of  dreadful  vision — and 
the  little  maid  said,  would  I  please  excuse  her 
for  stumbling  so  awkwardly  and  startling  me. 
Then  she  found  rny  key,  which,  owing  to  rny 
excitement,  I  had  lost,  and  picked  up  my  hand- 
kerchief, which  I  had  accidentally  dropped,  and 
also  my  eyeglasses,  which  had  fallen,  and  opened 
my  door  for  me,  and  led  me  to  the  sofa,  and 
poured  out  a  glass  of  water,  and  I  drank  it,  and 
felt  better,  her  manner  was  so  exceedingly  sym- 
pathetic and  trustworthy.  But  why  you  laugh, 
uncle,  I  cannot  imagine.  Surely  the  whole  af- 
fair is  most  painful,  and  not  in  the  least  funny." 

"  And  then  ?"  he  asked,  with  a  chuckle. 

"  And  then  she  left  me,  and  I  read  Matthew 
Arnold  to  compose  my  nerves.  An  hour  later 
she  came  back,  and  asked  me,  in  the  most  nat- 
ural way  in  the  world,  if  I  didn't  want  a  maid. 
And  that  is  what  I  wished  to  say  to  you,  Uncle 
John.  Of  course,  it  is  very,  very  sudden,  and 
requires  a  great  deal  of  careful  thought,  and  I 
impressed  it  upon  her  that  it  was  impossible  for 
me  to  consider  it  for  an  instant  until  I  had  con- 
sulted you  ;  and  I  begged  her  to  fully  under- 
stand that  she  was  to  build  no  real  hopes  upon 


6  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

the  probability ;  still  I  have  resolved  to  go  as  far 
as  this — that  is  to  say,  if  you  see  no  objection — 
I  should  like  to  try  her,  Uncle  John ;  I  really 
think  I  should." 

He  gazed  meditatively  at  his  niece,  whose 
whole  gentle  being  seemed  to  quiver  with  a 
kind  of  latent  apology  to  the  whole  world  for 
the  mistake  she  had  made,  for  the  mistake 
which  she  feared  she  was  about  to  make ; 
above  all,  abject  apology  to  her  own  insatiable 
conscience,  which  tyrannized  over  her  innocent 
Jife  with  Juggernaut  rapacity. 

"I  wonder  that  we  have  never  thought  of 
this  before.  I  wonder  that  we  have  waited  for 
a  maid  to  be  literally  flung  at  your  head.  Why, 
if  you  had  one,  I  could  leave  you  with  a  clear 
conscience." 

"  Then  you  really  wouldn't  mind  ?" 

"  Mind  ?  Bless  my  soul,  if  the  girl  is  a  decent 
and  honest  body  I  shall  receive  her  with  open 
arms.  Figuratively,  my  dear,  figuratively.  The 
truth  is,  Aurelia,  Lucerne  will  be  the  death  of 
me  soon.  There's  absolutely  nothing  for  a  man 
to  do  in  Lucerne  but  to  increase  in  body  and 
decrease  in  mind.  I  believe  I've  gained  three 
quarters  of  an  inch  since  last  week."  Mr.  Yan- 
derpool  looked  ruefully  at  his  waistcoat.  "I 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  7 

don't  pretend  to  know  why  being  bored  should 
make  a  man  stout,  but  staring  at  that  mori- 
bund fossil  of  a  lion  has  always  had  that  effect 
upon  me.  At  all  events,  the  sooner  I'm  off  for 
Marienbad  the  better.  And  I  advise  you  to 
stay  here  and  look  at  the  lion  as  long  as  you 
like,  Aurelia.  You,  at  least,  are  not  threat- 
ened with  apoplexy." 

"I  have  thought  that  I  should  like  to  go  to 
Constance  a  little  later,  uncle.  I'  ve  heard  it 
was  so  pleasant  and  quiet." 

"  Quieter  than  Lucerne  ?"  he  returned,  witli  a 
groan.  "  Well,  never  mind.  Go  where  you  like. 
The  maid  is  a  good  idea,  a  capital  idea.  If  she's 
an  honest  girl,  nothing  could  be  better.  What's 
her  name,  by  the  way  ?" 

Miss  Aurelia  fluttered  with  pleasure  at  his  in- 
terest in  her  scheme. 

"  Antoninia,"  she  replied. 

Again  he  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed. 

"It  seems  to  be  a  very  good  name,"  she  re- 
marked deprecatingly,  perplexed  by  his  mirth. 

"  Excellent,  excellent.  But  isn't  it  too  grand 
for  common  use?  It's  such  a  mouthful,  you 
know.  Then  the  two  of  you  together — Aurelia 
and  Antoninia  1  Isn't  it  too  imposing  for  the 
way  we  travel?  Doesn't  it  suggest  triumphal 
processions  and  an  S.P.Q.R.  pomp  ?" 


8  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

Miss  Aurelia  looked  at  him  in  mild  and  dis- 
tant interrogation. 

"  Her  other  name,"  she  continued,  seriously, 
"  is  Zschorcber.  I  am  not  sure  that  I  pronounce 
that  name  very  well.  There's  a  certain  sound  I 
don't  seem  to  get.  The  German  consonants  are 
so  difficult.  And  if  I  were  obliged  to  say  it 
rapidly,  without  preparing  my  mouth  for  it,  I 
fear  I  should  not  do  it  justice.  Zsch — Zschor — 
Zschorcher." 

"As  you  pronounce  it,"  remarked  Uncle 
John,  "  it  sounds  uncommonly  like  a  sneeze." 

"  If  it  wouldn't  hurt  her  feelings,  we  might 
change  it  to  Bates  or  Briggs.  How  would  Briggs 
do,  Uncle  John  ?  It  does  not  really  matter  what 
one  calls  them,  does  it,  provided  they  themselves 
are  willing?" 

"  Well,  no,  not  much,  I  should  say.  Still,  it's 
a  pity  to  sacrifice  a  name  that  revels  in  possibil- 
ities, like  Antxminia.  Let  her  come  in,  and  I'll 
tell  you  in  a  twinkling  what  to  call  her.  Chris- 
tening ladies'-maids  may  not  be  a  suitable  occu- 
pation for  a  bachelor  of  my  years,  but  it's  more 
enlivening  than  staring  at  the  fossil." 

"Oh,  uncle!"  exclaimed  Miss  Aurelia. 

"  Or  yawning  at  the  peaks." 

"Why,  uncle!" 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  9 

"  Or  dawdling  about  the  pond." 

"  The  pond  !     Oh,  Uncle  John  !" 

"Or  asking  head -waiters  to  interpret  the 
portents  of  clouds  hovering  over  Pilatns. 
Great  heavens,  are  waiters  augurs?  More  like- 
ly screws.  Then,  I  confess  it,  Aurelia,  I  am  in 
mortal  dread  of  Wilhelm  Tell." 

"  Of  whom,  dear  uncle  ?  I  do  not  really  un- 
derstand." 

"  Of  Wilhelm  Tell,  I  say." 

"  But,  uncle—" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mean  the  hero  and  patriot. 
He's  an  egregious  bore,  but  one  can  escape 
from  him.  My  Wilhelm  is  alive.  My  Wil- 
helm is  not  traditionary.  You  see,  I  was  walk- 
ing the  other  day  towards  Brunnen,  with  no  in- 
tentions under  heaven  except  to  get  away  from 
that  beastly  lion.  On  the  road  I  met  a  woman 
with  a  beautiful  boy  three  years  old.  He  was  a 
sturdy,  rosy  little,  chap,  with  yellow  curls  and  a 
jolly  smile.  The  fact  is,  he  smiled  pointedly  at 
me.  He  began  the  mischief  himself.  I,  like  an 
old  fool,  patted  his  head.  ISTow,  I'm  the  last 
man  in  the  world  to  go  about  patting  children. 
When  did  I  ever  pose  for  the  benevolent  old 
gentleman  ?  But  that  lion  can  drive  a  man 
into  premature  senility.  Well,  I  patted  him. 


10  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

Then  I  said,  'What's  your  name?'  Imbecile 
question  ;  another  result  of  the  lion.  The  boj 
only  smiled. 

"  Up  spoke  the  woman.  '  Wilhelm  Tell,'  she 
said,  courtesying. 

" '  Oh,  come  now,  that's  a  downright  swindle.' 

"  'No,  it  isn't,'  protested  the  woman, astonished 
and  aggrieved.  '  His  father's  name  is  Tell,  and 
this  is  little  Wilhelm.' 

"  I  laughed,  gave  him  a  franc,  and  went  my  way. 

"A  few  minutes  later  I  heard  a  voice  and 
hurrying  feet  behind  me. 

"  It  was  the  honest  and  indignant  woman  with 
her  child. 

" '  Oh,  sir,'  she  began,  breathlessly,  '  please 
take  little  Wilhelm.' 

" '  Take  him  !'  said  I,  staring.     *  What  for  ?' 

" '  Take  him,  and  keep  him.  You  may  have 
him.' 

" '  But.  I  don't  want  to  buy  a  boy.' 

" '  You  needn't  buy  him.  You  may  have  him 
for  nothing.  I  have  eleven  at  home.  Please 
take  little  Wilhelm.' 

" '  Woman,  are  you  his  mother?'  I  demanded, 
sternly. 

" '  Of  course  I  am.  That's  why  I  want  you  to 
take  him.  Oh,  kind  sir,  do,  do  take  little  Wil- 
helm. 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  11 

"  Well,  Aurelia,  to  cut  a  long  story  short,  I 
broke  loose  from  her  that  time.  Fancy  me 
travelling  about  with  a  three-year-old  boy,  and 
the  charitable  remarks  in  consequence !  But  I 
don't  trust  myself.  That  lion  can  lead  a  man 
into  any  folly,  any  crime.  The  worst  of  it  is, 
Wilhelm  Toll's  mother  knows  I  am  weak,  and  is 
lying  in  wait  for  me.  If  I  don't  run  away,  she'll 
have  me  yet.  I  meet  them  everywhere,  and, 
unless  I  wish  Wilhelm  Tell  saddled  on  me  for 
life,  I'd  better  go." 

"  But,  how  beautiful  it  would  be,  uncle,  how 
tender,  kind,  and  benevolent!" 

"No,  my  dear,  thanks !  No  merry  Swiss  boy 
for  me.  How  do  I  know  what  he  has  inherit- 
ed ?  By  the  time  he  is  fourteen  he  may  develop 
a  goitre ;  he  may  be  a  cretin.  The  lion  must 
commit  further  ravages  upon  my  intellect  be- 
fore I  recklessly  adopt.  Still,  I  confess  my 
weakness.  There  is  safety  in  flight,  for  the 
smile  of  Wilhelm  Tell  works  like  madness  in 
my  brain.  Who  knows?  Perhaps  he  can't  do 
anything  but  smile.  I  never  heard  him  say  a 
word.  Do  you  happen  to  know,  Aurelia,  if 
boys  of  three  usually  converse  ?" 

"  I  think  that  they  gently  prattle,  uncle." 

"  Gently  prattle !    H'm  !   Well,  summon  your 


12  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

Roman  Abigail,  and  I'll  give  her  a  name  con- 
structed out  of  a  mere  fragment  of  the  one  with 
which  she  is  so  plentifully  supplied.  And  then, 
if  she  seems  to  be  the  right  kind  of  a  person  to 
look  after  you — though,  to  be  sure,  you  of  all 
women  are  safe  enough  anywhere — " 

"Yes,"  interrupted  Miss  Aurelia,  bridling 
softly;  "I  hope  that  my  dignity,  my  discre- 
tion—" 

"Bless  my  soul,  it's  no  question  of  dignity 
and  discretion.  Absence  of  danger  doesn't  by 
any  means  invariably  depend  upon  high-toned 
qualities.  Never  mind,  Aurelia.  You  are  a 
very  good  girl,  if  we  don't  always  understand 
each  other." 

"  It  is  stupid  for  you  with  only  me,  I  know," 
she  rejoined,  gently.  "  I  wonder  that  you  have 
had  so  much  patience.  Do  start  at  once  for 
Marienbad.  I  am  sure  that  you  will  like  Anto- 
ninia.  But,  Uncle  John,  I  am  beginning  to 
have  my  misgivings.  If  this  should  be  too  lux- 
urious, too  self-indulgent  ?  You  know  I  do  not 
positively  require  a  maid.  I  have  no  sewing 
whatever  at  present,  except  an  occasional  stitch 
in  a  glove,  or  something  equally  trifling.  If  I 
should  be  yielding  to  a  weak  impulse  2  If  the 
money  which  I  shall  pay  Antoninia  could  be 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  13 

used  to  better  advantage  devoted  to  the  Soci- 
ety for  Teaching  Indigent  Young  Women  the 
Use  of  the  Caligraph  ?" 

"Aurelia,"  interposed  her  uncle,  gravely, 
"  charity  begins  at  home.  Have  I  not  remained 
here  three  weeks  longer  than  our  agreement, 
waiting  for  }*our  friends,  whom  some  instinct  of 
self-preservation  has  led  elsewhere?  Do  you 
wish  to  save  me  from  enlargement  of  the  liver 
and  softening  of  the  brain?  Do  you  not  per- 
ceive the  imminent  danger  of  the  descent  of 
Wilhelm  Tell  ?  Then  produce  your  maid." 

"I  will,  I  will,"  responded  Miss  Aurelia, 
agitated  but  resolute,  and  rising  to  ring  the 
bell. 

Presently  the  waiter  ushered  in  a  small,  dark- 
haired  girl  of  seven  or  eight  and  twenty,  who 
entered  with  a  complete  absence  of  bustle,  and 
stood  facing  Mr.  Vanderpool.  Her  deep -set, 
shrewd  eyes  gazed  at  him  calmly,  her  firm,  small 
hands  were  quietly  clasped  across  her  white 
apron,  her  whole  personality  expressed  repose. 

"  She'll  do,"  he  thought.  "  Frisky  she  isn't, 
or  handsome,  but  wholesome  she  is,  and  clever- 
er than  the  whole  Yanderpool  race." 

Miss  Aurelia's  anxious,  gentle,  helpless  glance 
fluttered  from  one  to  the  other.  The  little  maid 


14  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

met  her  gaze,  and  returned  it  with  what  seemed 
to  Mr.  Yanderpool  a  very  remarkable  smile.  It 
was  deferential  in  the  extreme,  yet  eminently 
reassuring.  It  was  the  smile  of  a  strong  and 
tender  nature  protecting  a  weaker  one.  More- 
over it  was  a  warm  smile,  brilliantly  lighting 
the  calm,  self-contained  face,  and  displaying  two 
rows  of  faultless  teeth. 

"  Upon  my  word,"  muttered  Mr.  Yanderpool, 
"she  is  handsome,  in  her  way." 

Grave  and  demure  she  watched  her  judge. 

"The  girl  is  spirited;  Annie  is  too  tame. 
She  hasn't  an  atom  of  coquetry.  Nina  is  too 
sentimental.  Tony  might  mean  anything,  so 
might  she,"  reasoned  the  nomenclator  with  a 
chuckle.  "  But  if  she's  a  Jesuit  she's  an  honest 
one." 

"  Aurelia,"  he  said,  "  she's  an  unknown  quan- 
tity. For  that  matter,  so  is  every  woman  who 
is  interesting.  Her  certificates  are  useless,  as 
we  can't  hunt  up  the  parties  who  wrote  them 
or  find  somebody  to  certify  to  their  honesty. 
We  shall  have  to  risk  it." 

"But  oh,  uncle,  she  looks  so  conscientious, so 
high-principled." 

"  I  don't  know  how  she  looks,"  rejoined  Un- 
cle John,  dryly.  "I  know  I  never  saw  any- 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  15 

body  like  her.  I'll  cross-examine  her  a  little  if 
you  wish." 

"  Why  did  you  leave  your  last  place  so  sud- 
denly ?"  he  began. 

"The  gracious  countess  has  continued  her 
journey  without  me." 

Her  voice  was  as  clear  as  her  gaze,  with  fin- 
ished intonations. 

"  Already  ?" 

"Already.  In  a  landau.  To  Interlaken," 
she  replied,  succinctly. 

"  I  am  curious  to  see  how  far  this  wonderful 
discretion  will  go,"  he  remarked  in  English. 

"Your  gracious  countess  was  a  bit  of  a  vixen, 
wasn't  she?  Apt  to  be  violent  and  fling  things 
about  now  and  then  ?  Made  it  rather  hard  for 
you,  didn't  she  ?  Don't  be  afraid ;  you  can 
speak  out  safely  here." 

Can  any  woman  resist  the  satisfaction  of  hit- 
ting an  enemy  when  the  enemy  can't  hit  back, 
he  wondered. 

"  She  had  a  great  deal  of  vivacity,"  admitted 
the  girl  seriously. 

"  What  was  she  trying  to  do  with  that  hair- 
brush ?" 

A  change  swept  over  Antoninia's  face.  Her 
straight  eyebrows,  which  always  had  a  slight 


16  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

upward  slant,  suddenly  ran  almost  to  a  point 
above  her  nose.  Her  features  were  alive  with 
keen  intelligence,  and  her  e}res,  fixed  sharply 
upon  Mr.  Yanderpool's,  seemed  to  convey  from 
her  spirit  to  his  a  burden  of  extraordinary  remi- 
niscence. He  flattered  himself  that  he  pos- 
sessed as  little  imagination  as  any  man  alive, 
yet  in  that  illuminated  instant  lie  felt  that  he 
was  gazing  upon  a  long  perspective  of  horrors, 
beginning  that  morning  at  the  insulting  blow  of 
the  irate  countess,  and  leading  through  unspeak- 
able grievances  back  to  her  ancestral  racks 
and  thumbscrews,  to  the  dungeons  and  oubliettes 
of  her  high-born,  high-tempered  race.  He  was 
fairly  startled.  Before  he  could  quite  inter- 
pret the  look  it  was  gone,  and  the  girl's  clear 
voice  was  replying  with  precise  old-fashioned 
phrases: 

"  Knowing  my  duty — I  allow  myself  to  re- 
mark to  the  gracious  gentleman  that  the  best 
of  families  have  their  little  eccentricities." 

"  She  did  have  eccentricities,  then  ?"  he  per- 
sisted. 

"  That  is  to  say,"  corrected  Antoninia  Zschor- 
cher,  with  beautiful  deference,  "  we  had  differ- 
ences of  opinion." 

"  Euphuistic  for  a  whack  with  a  hairbrush," 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  17 

he  muttered.  "And  what  made  you  apply  to 
Miss  Yanderpool  ?" 

She  turned  her  bright  face,  again  radiant  with 
the  fine  smile,  upon  the  lank  figure  and  uncer- 
tain, gentle  features  of  Miss  Aurelia. 

"If  I  may  be  so  bold,"  she  began,  "I  have 
had  the  honor  of  meeting  the  gracious  franlein 
in  the  corridor  for  several  weeks,  and  I  have 
observed  her,  and  I  have  thought  she  looked  as 
if  she  might  need  precisely  such  a  person  as  I" 
— to  take  care  of  her,  she  did  not  add,  but  Mr. 
Vanderpool  supplied  it  mentally. 

"  Knowing  my  duty,"  she  went  on  cheerfully, 
"  I  believe  I  should  suit.  I  make  bold  to  say- 
that  if  the  gracious  franlein  engages  rne  she 
will  have  no  reason  to  regret  it." 

Her  self-respect,  her  command  of  the  situa- 
tion, the  extreme  finish  of  her  manner,  pleased 
and  puzzled  Mr.  Yanderpool,  while  Miss  Aure- 
lia was  plainly  under  a  spell. 

"  What  shall  you  do  if  we  don't  take  you  ?" 
he  asked. 

"I  shall  start  to-day  for  Germany.  I  have 
examined  all  the  ladies  in  the  house.  There  is 
none  to  whom  I  wish  to  apply  beside  the  gra- 
cious fraulein." 

"Aurelia,  engage  her  on  the  spot,  and  call 
2 


18  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

her  Tony.  Lucerne  may  have  undermined  my 
intellect  more  than  I  myself  am  aware,  and  I 
may  be  doing  a  rash  thing ;  still,  I  should  trust 
a  man  that  looked  like  this  girl.  You  can  ex- 
amine her  papers  for  form's  sake.  If  the  effete 
aristocracy  of  the  old  world  maltreat  her,  we'll 
shelter  her  upon  our  broad  shores,"  and  off  he 
sauntered  to  stare  at  the  lion  for  the  last  time. 

"  That  girl  lias  an  air  of  race,"  he  reflected, 
as  he  gazed  up  at  the  hated  object  embedded  in 
the  rock.  "  I  don't  know  where  she  got  it,  but 
it's  taken  several  centuries  to  produce  her." 

The  next  morning,  in  excellent  spirits,  he 
started  for  Marienbad. 

"  Good-bye,  Aurelia.  Take  care  of  yourself. 
Don't  hesitate  to  telegraph  if  you  need  me. 
You've  got  a  treasure  of  a  maid,"  chuckled  the 
wicked  old  gentleman.  "  She's  feudal ;  she's 
mediaeval.  But  I'll  tell  you  what,  Aurelia, 
you'll  have  to  live  up  to  her!" 


CHAPTER  II. 

TONY  CONVOYS  HER  MISTRESS  TO  CONSTANCE. 

THE  quiet  old  town  of  Constance  was  enli- 
vened a  certain  season  by  a  feud.  In  a  sum- 
mer resort  whose  pictnresqueness  is  character- 
ized by  interminable  tranquillity,  and  whose  ex- 
tremest  pleasure  is  the  reverse  of  madly  reckless, 
a  feud  is  obviously  a  boon.  Now  any  feud, 
with  all  its  ramifications,  is  rather  a  difficult 
thing  to  tackle,  that  is,  when  one  is  not  born 
and  brought  up  with  it,  educated  to  it,  as  it 
were.  The  travelling  public  never  attempted 
to  grasp  the  beginning  or  end  of  this  one,  but 
embraced  it  on  that  account  with  no  less  fervor. 
It  was  a  hotel  feud  and  appertained  exclusively 
to  the  summer  guests. 

The  Constanzer  Hof  was  big,  airy,  clean,  and 
glaringly  modern.  The  Insel  Hotel  was  serious, 
ancient,  and  picturesque,  an  old  Dominican  mon- 
astery, forced,  at  this  late  period  of  its  existence, 
to  reluctantly  serve  a  frivolous  passing  throng. 


20  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

The  guests  at  the  Constanzer  superciliously 
wondered  that  people  could  deliberately  choose 
to  inhabit  a  place  choked  by  the  dust  of  ages, 
and  permeated  by  a  musty,  mouldy,  not  to  say 
monkish,  flavor.  The  Inselites,  conscious  of 
picturesqueness,  prowled  along  dark,  stuffy  cor- 
ridors to  their  rooms,  ate  their  dinners  with 
gusto  in  the  vaulted  and  dim  refectory,  and 
thanked  Providence  that  they  were  not  as  their 
prosaic  neighbors  in  the  flagrantly  new  and 
monstrous  building  which  desecrated  the  oppo- 
site shore,  and  was  a  blot  upon  the  face  of  nature. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  the  prerogative  of 
the  Insel  devotees  entailed  upon  them  certain 
arduous  observances;  for  in  stance,  an  appropriate 
significance  of  costume  and  bearing.  One  was  not 
always  clear  in  one's  own  mind  exactly  how  lofty 
an  expression  one  ought  to  assume  when  one  hap- 
pened to  be  standing  by  the  tanks  watching  the 
swans,  and  a  party  of  fashionable  loungers  from 
the  Constanzer  strolled  along.  Upon  some,  the 
mantle  of  the  defunct  friars  hung  awkwardly 
enough,  but  certain  aesthetic  English  maidens 
wore  it  with  admirable  seriousness  and  ease. 
On  any  excursion  steamer,  in  the  midst  of  a  gid- 
dy pleasure-seeking  throng,  an  observing  eye 
could  perceive  that  they  were  never  unconscious 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  21 

of  the  subtle  Dominican  influence  brooding  over 
them ;  and  sometimes,  on  a  lonely  hill-top,  one 
would  meet  a  damsel  who  wore  her  colors  as 
distinctly  as  if  she  were  a  page  of  illuminated 
vellum. 

The  feud  created  tough  and  indestructible 
topics  of  conversation  invaluable  in  a  place 
where  little  happened,  and  that  little  seldom. 
People  blessed  with  a  partisan  spirit  had  been 
known  to  take  it  so  seriously  that,  coming  for 
two  days,  they  had  remained  two  months ;  and, 
far  from  considering  Constance  a  dead  little 
place,  as  their  friends  had  described  it,  they  had 
found  its  attractions  more  enlivening  than  any 
Alpine  panorama  they  had  seen. 

Down  in  his  den  below  the  summer-idlers, 
sat  a  serious-minded  man,  and  every  evening, 
with  the  sphinx-like,  fateful  smile  of  the  hotel- 
keeper,  he  lumped  the  payments  of  the  sesthetes 
and  the  worldlings.  Over  the  weal  and  woe  of 
both  houses  presided  one  and  the  same  power. 
He  created  and  encouraged  the  rivalry.  He 
sowed,  and,  most  especially,  he  reaped.  Any 
hotel  can  have  an  elevator,  he  reasoned.  Not 
every  one  may  boast  an  artistic  feud.  So  he 
pulled  his  wires,  and  the  puppets  merrily  danced. 

Antoninia  Zschorcher  was  nobody's  puppet. 


22  TONY,.  THE  MAID. 

Whatever  terpsichorcan  or  other  exercise  she  un- 
dertook was  apt  to  be  at  the  instigation  of  her 
own  spirit.  When  she  a'nd  Miss  Aurelia  stood  on 
the  platform  of  the  railway  station  at  Constance, 
she  was  ignorant  of  the  place  and  all  its  works. 
But  at  such  moments  she  usually  proceeded  upon 
certain  broad  general  principles.  Miss  Aurelia, 
never  in  the  thirty-three  years  of  her  existence 
so  advantageously  dressed,  and  already  feeling 
safe  under  Tony's  convoy,  waited  with  a  passive 
and  amiable  expression  of  countenance  until  the 
master  mind  should  act." 

Tony  looked  sharply  about,  and  inspected  the 
line  of  omnibuses  drawn  up  to  receive  the  vic- 
tims. She  perceived  that  two  large  hotels  and 
several  inns  were  represented,  and  caught  the 
exchange  of  a  knowing  wink  between  two  port- 
ly blond  men  who  stood  apparently  glowering 
fiercely  at  each  other  at  the  doors  of  the  Constan- 
zer  Hof  and  Insel  Hotel  vehicles,  into  which 
they  were  abstractedly  pushing  women  and  bun- 
dles. The  Insel  man  was  the  nearer.  Miss  Au- 
relia admired  his  gold  stripes,  and  thought  that 
he  looked  like  a  major-general.  With  the  vi- 
vacity of  a  squirrel  little  Tony  darted  towards 
this  imposing  personage,  and  slipped  a  silver 
coin  into  his  largely  receptive  hand. 


TONY,  THE   MAID.  23 

"  Which  is  the  cleaner  ?"  she  demanded. 

He  gave  her  a  glance  of  recognition,  not  of 
the  individual,  but  of  the  type. 

"  H'm,"  he  returned,  grinning.  "  Got  any- 
body In  particular  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes.  Hurry,  can't  you  ?  Which  is  the 
cleaner  and  the  best  table  ?" 

"  The  other  one,"  he  muttered ;  "  but  it's  all 
the  same  thing,  you  know." 

"Thank  you,  kindly,"  she  said,  nodding  and 
smiling.  "  I'll  do  as  much  for  you  some  day." 

The  gong  at  the  Constanzer  Hof  portals  an- 
nounced the  approach  of  the  omnibus  which 
disgorged  that  evening  an  endless  stream  of 
warm  and  weary  beings,  each  of  whom,  very  nat- 
urally, wished  to  be  treated  a  little  better  than 
anybody  else.  Breathless,  hungry-looking  wait- 
ers skimmed  and  circled  about  the  guests  like  a 
covey  of  black,  gaunt  birds.  To  the  babel  of 
bad  German  and  French  the  hotel  director  add- 
ed his  pleasingly  bad  English,  each  individual 
being  apparently  determined  to  avail  himself 
exclusively  of  the  language  with  which  he  was 
least  acquainted.  Smiling,  suave  —  a  striking 
example  of  the  triumph  of  mind  over  matter — 
the  director  stood  heroically  in  the  centre  of  the 
heterogeneous  surging  mass  of  men,  women, 


24  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

travelling-bags,  shawl- straps,  and  umbrellas, 
His  hair  may  have  been  slightly  dishevelled,  his 
eye  a  trifle  wild,  but  his  voice  never  faltered  as 
he  gave  the  most  encouraging  acquiescence  to 
the  universal  demand  for  first-floor  rooms  at 
fifth-floor  prices,  and  windows  with  a  southern 
exposure  and  adapted  to  seeing  the  sunset,  on 
the  northeast  shady  side.  • 

"  Your  pleasantest  corner  room  for  a  single 
lady,"  said  a  clear  tone  at  his  elbow.  He  turned 
and  saw  a  decided  little  person  with  an  eye  that 
meant  business. 

"  Who  is  it  ?"  he  asked,  also  recognizing  Tony's 
type.  His  pallid  features  expressed  sudden  re- 
lief, and  the  artificial  strained  Swiss  honey  van- 
ished from  his  smile. 

"  Miss  Yanderpool,"  replied  Tony,  enunciat- 
ing the  name  with  ineffable  respect.  • 

He  raised  his  eyebrows  and  searched  his  mem- 
ory. 

"  The  Vanderpool  family,"  she  added,  coming 
easily  to  his  aid. 

"Oh,  ah,  yes,  yes,  of  course,"  he  returned, 
vaguely,  but  with  deference. 

"It's  worth  your  while  to  please  her,  you 
know,"  she  murmured,  confidentially,  "in  ev- 
ery way,"  she  added  with  significance.  "  Give 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  25 

her  something  good,  and  put  me  anywhere  you 
like,  but  near  her." 

"  Henri !"  the  director  beckoned  to  one  of 
the  black-coated  phantoms,  "  show  this  lady  to 
53." 

The  waiter  stared  and  ventured  to  remind  his 
chief: 

"Keserved  for  the  Princess  Shilly-Shally." 

"  53  for  the  lady,"  repeated  the  autocrat. 

Henri  swooped  down  upon  Miss  Aurelia's 
travelling  accoutrements  and  ascended  the  great 
stairway  like  a  perambulating  Colossus  of 
Rhodes. 

Presently  Miss  Anrelia  found  herself  in  a 
large  arm-chair  by  a  window  overlooking  the 
garden  and  lake,  and  waited  upon,  wTatched  over, 
and  protected  like  a  cradled  infant.  She  had 
not  elected  to  join  the  worldlings,  was  not  cog- 
nizant of  the  existence  of  the  aesthetes,  and  did 
not  dream  that  she  had  made  her  entry  with 
banners  flying  and  had  even  ousted  a  princess. 
It  was  the  first  time  in  her  life  that  she  had 
been  thoroughly  taken  care  of,  and  she  felt  ex- 
ceedingly comfortable  and  happy.  Accustomed 
to  a  patronizing  masculine  protection,  to  the 
careless  good-nature  of  a  superior  being  to  whom 
she  helplessly  clung,  sensitive  to  his  approbation 


26  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

and  painfully  conscious  that  she  rarely  gained 
it,  wincing  daily  beneath  the  covert  irony  of  his 
bluff  tolerance,  her  enjoyment  of  Ton}7  would 
be  difficult  to  portray.  Uncle  John  was  good 
to  her,  often  patient,  always  generous ;  but  the 
fact  remained,  his  niece  was  a  persistently  hu- 
morous object  to  .him,  and  this  she  vaguely  but 
sorely  felt. 

The  balminess,  then,  of  two  weeks  of  Tony 
transcended  a  cycle  of  Uncle  John.  The  deli- 
ciousness  of  being  approached  with  deference, 
handled  with  care;  the  luxury  of  having  her 
judgment  gravely  solicited  ;  in  short,  the  bliss  of 
being  important — all  this  was  novel  and  sweet  to 
Miss  Aurelia's  much-repressed  being.  But  Tony 
was  so  bonny  and  bright,  so  quick  and  clever,  so 
superior,  so  near  perfection,  her  mistress  might 
have  been  overawed  in  spite  of  the  maid's  gen- 
tle and  respectful  demeanor,  were  it  not  for  one 
fortunate  flaw,  one  comforting  suggestion  of  in- 
competency.  Apparently  Tony  did  not  know 
right  from  left ;  at  least,  when  she  brought  Miss 
Aurelia's  slippers,  she  invariably,  after  removing 
her  mistress's  boots,  applied  the  left  slipper  to 
the  right  foot. 

"Do  you  not  see, Tony,"  Miss  Anrelia  would 
say,  instructively,  "even  in  well-formed  feet" 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  27 

— she  was  a  little  vain  of  her  foot,  considering 
it  slender  and  aristocratic — "  there  must  be  a 
difference,  there  is  always  the  mark  of  the 
great  toe.  Right  and  left  —  that  is  so  easy, 
Tony,  if  you  only  think." 

"  When  the  gracious  f  ranlein  explains  it  so 
nicely,  I  seem  to  understand,"  Tony  would  re- 
ply, kneeling  before  her ;  "  but,  alas !  I  must 
be  incurable,  since  I  always  commit  the  same 
fault." 

She  did,  indeed.  Regularly  every  evening, 
at  the  hour  of  changing  shoes,  the  inexplicable 
mistake  reoccurred.  Pier  brilliant  smile,  hand- 
some teeth,  and  the  benevolent  dimple  in  her 
chin  lost  none  of  their  cheerfulness  during  Miss 
Aurelia's  gently  didactic  disquisition  upon  the 
formation  of  the  human  foot.  But  the  necessi- 
ty of  giving  it  imparted  each  day  strength  and 
dignity  to  that  lady's  position,  as  mistress  of  this 
all  but  faultless  maid ;  and  when  she  closed  her 
eyes  to  sleep,  after  her  anatomical  lecture,  it  was 
with  a  feeling  of  solid  self-respect,  such  as  she 
had  never  before  known. 

And  Tony  ?  In  flat  contradiction  to  the  mis- 
anthropic old  saw,  "No  man  is  a  hero  to  his 
valet,"  her  stanch  heart  required  nothing  less 
than  a  heroine  for  a  mistress.  She  would  have 


28  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

economically  created  one  for  herself  anywhere 
out  of  the  most  minute  heroic  fragments,  and 
no  money  could  have  induced  her  to  remain 
long  in  a  situation  untenable  for  hero-worship. 
The  prevailing  conditions  of  her  last  engage- 
ment were,  as  has  been  indicated,  turbulent. 
She  had  her  own  immutable  code,  and  volunta- 
rily closed  her  eyes  to  many  idiosyncrasies  of 
her  previous  mistress.  "Why  have  we  eyes 
that  open  and  shut,  unless  we  are  sometimes  to 
shut  them,"  reasoned  Tony.  Tyranny  and  ca- 
price disturbed  her  little.  According  to  her 
broad  philosophy  a  lady  could  be  tyrannical  and 
capricious  to  her  heart's  content,  provided  she 
would  observe  proper  forms.  This  the  fair 
countess  emphatically  refused  to  do,  and  Tony, 
in  consequence,  left  her,  but  not  before  her  ex- 
alted sense  of  decorum  had  been  subjected  to  a 
series  of  great  and  frequent  shocks.  She  suf- 
fered more  in  spirit  from  the  disorderly  relation- 
ship of  mistress  and  maid  than  physically  from 
what  may  be  politely  termed  accidental  concus- 
sions. Her  soul  loathed  disorder.  Her  boxes 
and  drawers  were  marvels  of  symmetrical  layers, 
and  bundles  bound  with  blue  ribbons  tied  in 
prim  little  bows;  her  ideas,  too,  were  assort- 
ed in  the  neatest  manner,  all  their  folds  and 


"WHEN   THE   GRACIOUS  FRAULEIN   EXPLAINS  IT   SO  NICELY." 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  29 

frills  held  within  exact  bounds,  and  bearing  the 
prim  little  sign-manual  of  their  owner. 

When  Tony  took  Miss  Aurelia  under  her  pro- 
tection, that  is  to  say,  when  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world  Tony  entered  Miss  Aurelia's  service,  she 
took  her  for  better  for  worse,  and  elevated  her 
on  the  spot  to  heroship.  She  laid  at  her  feet  the 
accumulated  homage  which  she  had  been  forced 
to  withdraw  from  the  countess,  and  much  beside 
that  arose  from  ardent  gratitude.  Attaching 
herself  speedily  to  the  mild  and  somewhat  help- 
less lady,  she  served  her  according  to  her  lights. 
It  is  by  no  means  asserted  that  Tony's  were  the 
best  lights  in  the  world,  but.  such  as  they  were, 
they  burned  clear  and  strong,  and  were  always 
ready  for  use,  like  the  lamps  of  the  wise  virgins. 
Miss  Aurelia's  tremulous  hesitation,  her  apolo- 
getic softness,  seemed  plaintive  to  cheery  little 
Tony,  trained  to  bear  with  patience  the  immeas- 
urable exactions  of  another  order  of  woman ; 
and  anything  this  side  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
more  restful  than  Miss  Aurelia's  service  it  was 
not  in  the  power  of  Tony's  imagination  to  pict- 
ure. 

The  evening  of  their  arrival  in  Constance, 
having  deposited  her  mistress  in  the  easy-chair 
by  the  pleasant  window  and  quickly  unpacked 


30  TONY,  THE   MAID. 

a  dressing-case,  Tony  proposed  to  bring  a  slight 
refreshment  of  which  Miss  Aurelia  could  par- 
take while  enjoying  the  view. 

"  Or  I  could  go  down  myself,  Tony,  and  see 
if,  by  chance,  anybody  I  know  is  here." 

"  The  gracious  fraulein  could,  indeed,  if  she 
were  not  already  so  fatigued,  and  here  it  is  qui- 
et and  cool,  and  the  gracious  fraulein  can  be  so 
comfortable,  while  down-stairs  it  is  noisy  with 
many  new  arrivals." 

"  That  is  true,  Tony.  You  might  bring  me 
a  cup  of  tea,  here." 

"  Or  a  half  bottle  of  wine  ?" 

Tony  approved  of  wine,  and  was  prejudiced 
against  tea. 

"  And  you  could  give  me  my  embroidery  as  I 
sit  here." 

"  Or  the  pleasant  book  which  amuses  the  gra- 
cious fraulein  so  much,"  suggested  Tony,  with 
her  convincing  smile.  She  thought  Miss  Aure- 
lia stooped  too  much  over  her  needlework. 

Miss  Aurelia  turned,  and  looked  meditatively 
out  of  the  window. 

Tony  waited,  motionless. 

"  Tony,"  at  length  began  Miss  Aurelia,  with 
a  gentle  dignity  born  of  the  conditions  which 
for  two  weeks  had  beautified  and  enlarged  her 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  31 

life,  "  as  I  am  already  somewhat  fatigued,  and 
it  is  quiet  and  cool  and  comfortable  here,  and  so 
very  noisy  down-stairs  with  all  the  arrivals,  you 
may  bring  me  some  lunch  and  a  little  wine,  and, 
Tony,  give  me  the  Tauclmitz  volume  I  was  read- 
ing on  the  train,  please." 

Tony  gravely  obeyed. 

Mutually  satisfied,  mistress  and  maid  sepa- 
rated. 

Tony  now  descended  to  the  lower  regions  to 
take  bearings,  and  discover  as  soon  as  possible 
that  most  important  guide  to  conduct  above  and 
below  stairs — in  which  direction  salaams  must  be 
made.  Meeting  three  yawning  waiters  cumber- 
ing the  passage,  she  sent  one  of  them  flying  for 
fresher  than  fresh  water,  another  for  a  rose  from 
the  garden,  and  the  third  to  find  a  salver  of  a 
special  shape  and  size.  In  consequence,  as  she 
entered  the  servants'  dining-room,  she  was  short- 
ly followed  by  her  vassals. 

The  room  was  large  and  comfortable.  At  a 
small  table  sat  a  heavy,  elderly,  red-faced  man 
solemnly  drinking  beer.  Tony  with  one  glance 
took  his  mental  measure..  Only  a  gentleman's 
gentleman  could  attain  to  that  expression  of  co- 
lossal arrogance  when  exclusively  enjoying  his 
own  society.  Through  a  succession  of  open 


32  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

doors  an  agreeable  kitchen  perspective  was  visi- 
ble, and  a  handsome,  white-capped  French  cook 
at  the  head  of  his  minions  and  scullions.  Tony, 
with  great  ingenuity,  kept  the  three  waiters 
ministering  to  her  wants.  The  salver  was  not 
quite  to  her  taste,  the  napkin  was  not  folded 
properly,  the  bread  was  too  old,  the  wine  too 
new.  But  her  smile  and  her  voice  compensated 
for  her  exactions.  The  great  man  drinking  beer 
turned  his  somewhat  glassy  eyes  upon  her. 
Tony,  having  nearly  completed  her  arrange- 
ments, stepped  back  and  regarded  the  tray  crit- 
ically. The  three  lank  waiters  watched  her 
open-mouthed.  The  great  man  put  down  his 
beer- glass  and  stared.  Tony  walked  by  him 
with  composure,  and  passed  through  the  room 
and  adjoining  pantries  straight  into  the  kitchen, 
where  she  accosted  the  cordon  lieu  in  his  own 
language.  The  Frenchman  was  a  gallant  man, 
and  liked  cheery  little  maids  with  neat  waists 
and  bright  eyes.  To  her  practical  inquiry  if  he 
had  not  something  nice  to  tempt  her  lady's  ap- 
petite, he  generously  responded  by  displaying  a 
series  of  choicest  tidbits,  begged  her  to  apply 
to  him  personally  every  day,  and  assured  her  he 
and  his  larder  were  at  her  feet. 

Tony,  always  simple  and  modest  before  true 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  33 

merit,  gratefully  replied  that  she  should  deeply 
regret  giving  him  the  slightest  trouble,  but  he 
would  readily  understand  that  for  a  lady  like 
her  lady,  Miss  Yanderpool,  nothing  in  this  im- 
perfect world  could  be  too  good. 

The  Frenchman  responded  that  her  sentiments 
were  most  elevated,  and  she  could  rely  upon 
him.  In  fact,  he  would  at  once  dedicate  a  re- 
cent creation  of  his  genius,  a  brilliant  composi- 
tion for  which  he  sought  a  fitting  name,  to  her 
lady.  On  the  next  day's  menu  she  would  per- 
ceive "  Poudding  a  la  Vanderpool"  He  escort- 
ed her  to  the  entrance  of  his  realm,  where  they 
parted  with  delightful  ceremony  and  expressions 
of  mutual  esteem. 

This  episode  was  closely  observed  by  the  great 
man  with  the  beer.  "Who  in  the  dickens  is 
this  genteel  little  body  that  walks  calmly  over 
the  course,  and  exerts  influence  in  high  places?" 
he  asked  himself.  For,  after  all,  to  a  truly 
thoughtful  observer,  the  greatest  man  in  a  great 
hotel  is  the  cordon  lieu. 

Preceded  by  a  waiter  to  open  doors,  followed 
by  a  waiter  with  the  tray,  and  with  waiters  bow- 
ing obsequiously  as  she  passed,  Tony  made  her 
exit.  The  gentleman's  gentleman  in  the  corner, 
accustomed,  like  all  great  persons,  to  be  fawned 
3 


34  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

upon,  was  unconsciously  impressed  by  the  indif- 
ference with  which  she  had  treated  him.  When, 
after  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  having  ministered 
to  the  needs  of  her  mistress,  she  returned  and 
seated  herself  with  a  fine  air  of  leisure,  he  was 
pleasurably  moved. 

"  Anything  will  do  for  me,"  she  said  to  a  wait- 
er, with  amiable  negligence.  "  A  little  bread  and 
meat  and  a  glass  of  wine."  This  was  all  that  had 
been  served  to  her  mistress ;  but  everything  in 
this  world  depends  upon  the  point  of  view. 

"I  should  conclude,"  mused  the  great  man  in 
the  corner,  "  that  she  had  nothing  less  than  a 
duchess  in  tow." 

Waiting  for  her  modest  repast,  Tony  gazed 
into  space  with  an  expression  of  refined  inso- 
lence. It  was  the  one  thing  which  she  had  cho- 
sen to  learn  from  the  countess,  and  it  sat  better 
on  the  maid  than  on  the  lady  of  high  degree; 
for  Tony's  face  was  fine,  with  a  delicate,  slight- 
ly aquiline  nose,  and  sensitive  curves  playing 
about  the  mouth,  and  a  cheerfully  satirical  gleam 
of  the  eye,  while  the  countess,  viewed  in  the 
most  charitable  light,  was  but  a  somewhat  shape- 
less mass  of  humanity. 

The  grand  mogul  coughed  and  deigned  to 
draw  near. 


"HE  ESCORTED  HER  TO  THE  ENTRANCE  OP  HIS  REALM." 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  35 

"  Ahem !"  he  said.    "  You  are  new,  I  believe." 

Tony  had  deftly  extracted  from  the  waiters, 
as  they  journeyed  up-stairs,  all  that  it  was  im- 
portant to  know  about  "  permanents."  She 
therefore  smiled  her  prettiest  with  that  frank 
deference  far  removed  from  servility,  supposed 
to  be  pleasing  to  clever  sovereigns,  and  answered, 
sweetly, 

"  We  have  just  arrived." 

"  H'm,"  he  returned,  regarding  her  neat  lit- 
tle person  with  an  approving  stare,  then  relapsed 
into  silence. 

"So  glad  to  find  genteel  society,"  chirped 
Tony. 

"  Passable,  passable,"  he  returned,  gloomily. 
"Unfortunately  there's  always  considerable  sec- 
ond-class that  travels." 

"  There  is,"  sighed  Tony,  responsively  de- 
pressed. 

"Why  second-class  folks  travel  at  all  is  a 
mystery,"  he  continued.  "It  would  be  better 
taste  if  such  as  they  should  just  stay  modestly 
at  home,  and  not  intrude  themselves  on  such  as 
we." 

"  It  would,  indeed,"  echoed  Tony,  resolutely 
pulling  down  the  corners  of  her  mouth,  over 
which  her  eyes  were  twinkling  rebelliously ; 


36  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

"  but,  dear,  dear,"  she  added,  with  the  countess's 
own  stare,  "  what  can  one  expect  of  them  ?" 

"  True,  too  true,"  he  groaned.  He  then  re- 
garded her  with  a  searching  look,  as  if  to  satisfy 
himself  that  he  was  not  about  to  impart  a  sacred 
mystery  to  an  unworthy  being,  or  a  scoffer. 

"We,"  he  announced,  with  immeasurable 
loftiness,  "we  are  the  High-Dudgeons." 

"And  we,"  returned  Tony,  equally  superb, 
"  we  are — the  Yanderpools." 

She  filled  her  glass  with  red  wine,  and  cut  a 
slice  of  bread  from  the  narrow  French  loaf  with 
an  abstracted  air. 

"  Yanderpool  ?"  repeated  the  great  man,  slow- 
ly and  interrogatively. 

"My  last  engagement,"  she  communicated, 
frankly,  "  was  with  the  Countess  Elaublutheim." 

"  I  know  that  family,"  said  the  man,  quickly. 

"I  don't  say  that  it  isn't  a  very  good  family," 
she  continued,  balancing  her  fork,  reflectively; 
"but  there  are  better,"  smiling  triumphantly  at 
her  new  acquaintance. 

"It's  a  well-known  family,"  he  ventured  to 
say. 

"  Oh  dear,  yes,"  she  responded,  indifferently  ; 
"  but  the  tone  left  something  to  be  desired. 
Tone,  tone,  it  is  a  necessity  of  my  being !" 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  37 

"Ah!"  he  murmured,  expansively,  "I  was 
sure  the  instant  I  saw  you  that  you  were  one  of 
us.  Vanderpool  is  the  name  ?" 

"  Yanderpool.     The  Yanderpools." 

ISTot  to  know  Vanderpool  argued  himself  un- 
known was  the  eloquent  burden  of  Tony's 
speech. 

"Good-evening,  Mr. — " 

"High-Dudgeon,"  prompted  the  great  man, 
majestically.  "  General  High-Dudgeon.  Major- 
General." 

Tony,  having  travelled  far  and  wide,  at  once 
perceived  that  she  was  in  a  hotel  where  the  sec- 
ond table  enjoyed  a  special  distinction ;  where 
its  society  represented  in  small  the  claims  of  its 
masters ;  and  where,  to  avoid  commonplace  rep- 
etitions of  Marie  and  Thomas,  and  to  spare  over- 
charged memories  the  trouble  of  learning  sur- 
names, people  were  designated,  with  elegant  sim- 
plicity, by  the  appellations  of  the  families  which 
had  the  honor  of  employing  them. 

"  Good-evening,  major-general.  Best  thanks," 
she  returned,  with  her  lowest  courtesy. 

"  Good-evening,  Miss  Vanderpool,"  he  recip- 
rocated, highly  pleased. 

Late  that  night,  in  her  stuffy  little  room 
which  opened  upon  the  square  court  in  the  in- 


38  TONY,  THE   MAID. 

terior  of  the  vast  building,  and  which  smelt  of 
the  ghosts  of  long-perished  dinners,  Tony,  by 
the  flickering  light  of  a  tallow  dip,  wrote  a  long 
letter.  She  addressed  it,  in  a  singularly  mascu- 
line hand  for  a  German  girl,  to  Herr  Eduard 
Maler,  in  a  certain  little  town  of  the  Suabian 
Oberland.  As  she  wrote,  her  cleanly-cut  mouth 
curved  in  innumerable  smiles  over  her  pretty 
teeth,  and  her  whole  expression  hovered  on  the 
borderland  between  roguishness  and  malice. 
She  said  her  prayers  scrupulously,  after  the  Ro- 
man Catholic  form ;  but  the  smile  on  her  lips 
and  in  her  dancing,  rebellious  eyes,  lingered 
through  all  her  observances.  Tony  found  the 
world  amusing.  She  looked  across  the  corridor, 
where  all  was  silent  in  Miss  Aurelia's  virgin 
bower.  By  the  dim  light  Tony  perceived  two 
long  and  slender  boots,  turned  up  slightly  at  the 
toes,  indicating  a  low  instep  and  an  uncertain 
tread.  She  took  them  up,  and  conscientiously 
inspected  the  condition  of  their  buttons. 

"  Right — left,"  she  murmured,  smiling,  and  in 
the  smile  was  now  no  malice,  only  warmth  and 
infinite  protection.  "  Right — left ;  it  is  so  easy, 
Tony,  if  you  think,"  she  repeated  softly,  put- 
ting the  boots  back  against  the  door. 

"  The  dear,  good,  innocent  lady !" 


CHAPTER  III. 

TONY  ASCERTAINS  THE  POINTS  OF  THE  COMPASS,  AND 
DIRECTS  MISS  AURELIA'S  COURSE  ACCORDINGLY. 

IT  would  scarcely  be  overpraise  to  state  that 
Tony's  method  of  presenting  Miss  Aurelia  to 
the  distinguished  consideration  of  the  hotel  world 
of  Constance  bore  a  certain  resemblance  to  the 
tactics  of  that  perfect  herald  and  astute  observer 
of  men,  Puss-in-Boots,  announcing  along  the 
highway  the  approach  of  the  Marquis  of  Cura- 
bas.  She  did  not  create  her  surroundings.  She 
simply  adapted  herself  to  them.  She  lived  in 
no  ideal  world,  and  was  unacquainted  with  the 
atmosphere  of  the  moon.  Hard  experience  had 
taught  her  to  call  a  spade  a  spade  in  her  own 
inner  consciousness.  What  name  she  gave  the 
homely  implement  before  the  world  varied  with 
circumstances. 

Not  so  much  what  she  said  as  what  she  did 
not  say  produced  a  subtle  and  powerful  impres- 
sion. She  seemed  always  to  rely  upon  the  in- 


40  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

telligence  of  her  auditors  to  supply  what  dis- 
cretion forbade  her  to  reveal.  She  never, 
for  instance,  stated  that  Miss  Aurelia  was  the 
descendant  of  a  duke,  never  boasted  that  she 
owned  a  couple  of  silver  mines ;  but  when  dukes 
and  silver  mines  and  such  pleasing  trifles  were 
under  discussion  in  the  servants'  hall,  Tony's 
face  wore  an  expression  of  impenetrable  reserve 
and  sagacity.  She  became  conspicuously  inat- 
tentive when  others  were  thrilled  with  curi- 
osity. She  yawned  politely  behind  her  hand 
at  tales  of  magnificence  which  amazed  her  col- 
leagues. Then  her  devotion,  her  haste,  her  im- 
portant air  when  performing  the  smallest  duty 
for  Miss  Aurelia  was  in  itself  eloquent.  "  Only  a 
shawl,  it  is  true,"  her  zeal  seemed  to  say  ;  "  but, 
consider — Miss  Yanderpool's  shawl !  It  is  mere- 
ly a  glass  of  water,  but,  oh,  fellow-citizens  of 
Vanity  Fair,  do  you  not  perceive?  it  is  Miss 
Vanderpool's  glass  of  water." 

In  the  genial  society  of  the  servants'  dining- 
room,  Tony  occupied  before  twenty-four  hours 
had  passed  an  enviably  secure  position,  and 
even  graced  at  dinner  the  seat  of  honor  at  the 
general's  right  hand. 

The  general,  at  this  time,  deigning  to  officiate 
in  the  capacity  of  valet  to  a  modest  and  infirm 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  41 

old  gentleman,  a  retired  officer  of  the  English 
army,  remarked  to  a  friend,  who  happened  to 
be  travelling  with  the  Ruy-Bric  family, 

"  I  say,  Ruy-Bric,  little  Yanderpool's  got  a 
prize.  One  of  them  deuced  Hamerican  million- 
airesses, you  know." 

"What  luck!"  sighed  the  other.  "As  for 
me,  I  strikes  family — always  family.  We  are 
connected  by  marriage  with  the  Sadflints,  you 
know.  It's  a  bottomless  pit  of  family.  But  in 
all  my  experience  I  never  hit  upon  anything 
substantial,  never  hear  the  cheerful  chink  of  the 
coin !" 

"  Fam'ly  is  fam'ly,"  returned  High-Dudgeon. 

"  I  don't  say  it  ain't,"  his  colleague  rejoined, 
disconsolately,  "and  when  it's  all  you've  got 
you'd  better  make  the  most  of  it.  But  since 
you've  seen  so  much  of  it  on  the  market  dirt 
cheap  you  can't  feel  as  you  used  to  about  it. 
Family  !  you  can  buy  all  you  want  anywhere. 
Once  you  couldn't.  Once  it  was  all  genuine — 
your  old  carved  oak,  your  lozenge  panes,  your 
'scutcheon.  But  now,  when  you  can  buy  up  a 
good  old  name,  and  even  put  another  pearl  on 
your  coronet,  and  nobody's  astonished,  or  grins, 
except  behind  your  back,  why,  all  I  have  to  say 
is,  family's  a  drug  in  the  market." 


42  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

"  Ruy-Bric,"  said  his  friend,  sternly,  "  some- 
body's been  corruptin'  your  morals.  For  a 
man  of  your  genteel  hassociations  such  parveuoo 
feelin's  is  nothin'  less  than  sinful." 

"  Well,  well,  general,  I  was  only  letting  myself 
out  to  you." 

"  Don't  let  me  hear  you  do  it  again.  I  heard 
a  promism*  young  man  like  you  talk  so  once, 
but  he  came  to  a  bad  end.  What  with  the 
flighty  Frenchmen  an'  Hitalian  adventurers  and 
most  uncertain  Germans,  who  is  to  keep  up  the 
tone  of  this  society  if  it  ain't  you  and  me  ?  Stick 
to  fam'ly,  Ruy-Bric.  It's  safest  in  the  long 
run.  Don't  fly  in  the  face  of  Providence.  It's 
too  painful  to  listen  to  you." 

"You're  right,  High  -  Dudgeon,  and  I'm 
obliged  to  you  for  your  warning." 

The  two  shook  hands  feelingly. 

"Well,  as  I  was  say  in',  Yanderpool's  got  a 
prize.  Her  lady- owns  mines,  railways,  cities — 
could  buy  up  half  of  Europe ;  but  mind  you, 
Ruy-Bric,  she's  got  fam'ly,  ioo,  otherwise,  I,  for 
one,  shouldn't  notice  her." 

"  Did  little  Yanderpool  tell  you  ?" 

"Not  she.  She's  truly  first-class.  Only  par- 
venoos  tells.  I  gathered  it,  Ruy-Bric.  A  man 
like  me  gathers." 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  43 

Ruy-Bric  gave  his  oracular  friend  a  farewell 
glance  of  admiration,  and  departed  to  dissemi- 
nate the  news. 

It  spread  and  multiplied  as  a  grain  of  mustard 
seed.  By  that  night,  when  Miss  Aurelia  mod- 
estly passed  through  the  corridor,  all  the  stray 
valets  and  couriers  and  ladies -maids  inclined 
themselves  as  before  a  princess  travelling  incog- 
nito. As  a  natural  consequence,  by  the  next 
noon,  all  the  masters  and  mistresses  of  the  pha- 
lanx of  valets,  etc.,  regarded  the  unknown  and 
unconscious  Miss  Aurelia  as  an  important  factor 
in  their  calculations. 

Momen  tary  opposition  only  made  Tony's  claims 
surer  and  safer.  A  transient  and  light-minded 
Frenchman,  answering  to  the  name  of  the  Baron, 
and  wearing  an  insolent  little  imperial,  sudden- 
ly appeared  in  that  select  and  sedate  circle  be- 
low stairs,  where  Britannic  ideas  prevailed. 
Turning  towards  Tony,  before  the  whole  assem- 
bly, he  remarked,  superciliously, 

"Vanderpool?  The  name  is  not  in  the  'Al- 
manach  de  Gotha.'  We  never  travel  without 
one,  and  I  looked." 

Not  one  of  the  honored  names  represented  at 
that  convivial  board  happened  to  adorn  the  Go- 
tha almanac.  The  more  reason  why  every  eye 
should  now  glare  accusingly  at  Tony. 


44  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

"A gentleman  of  your  education, baron,"  she 
replied,  with  the  composure  of  an  easy  con- 
science, "  is  undoubtedly  aware  that  we  have  a 
different  almanac  in  America.  We,  too,  always 
travel  with  ours,  and  our  name  is  in  it." 

This  was  strictly  true.  Tony  had  seen  Miss 
Aurelia  repeatedly  take  from  her  portfolio  a 
yellow  pamphlet,  upon  whose  fly-leaf  Aurelia 
Vanderpool  was  written  in  lead-pencil,  and  upon 
\vhose  back  "Ayer's  Cherry  Pectoral"  shone 
out  in  commanding  characters. 

"  Of  course,"  coughed  the  baron,  with  some 
embarrassment.  "  America  is  a  great  country." 

"  Oh  dear,  yes,"  returned  Tony,  tranquilly. 

In  spite  of  her  urbanity,  the  baron  felt  vague- 
ly conscious  of  being  defrauded,  and  after  some 
moments  returned  to  the  charge. 

"  Vanderpool  ?  But  which  Yanderpool  ?  what 
Vanderpool  ?"  he  demanded. 

"  What  Vanderpool  ?"  repeated  the  chorus, 
with  stony  stares. 

Tony  put  down  her  knife  and  fork.  There 
was  a  pause,  which  she  employed  in  shrugging 
her  shoulders,  raising  her  eyebrows,  and  express- 
ins:  other  signs  of  commiseration.  One  must 

o  o 

have  patience,  even  with  gross  ignorance,  her 
pantomime  said.     She  gave  the  general  a  long 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  45 

look,  and  waited.  It  was  a  happy  moment. 
He  had  just  finished  his  third  bottle  of  ale,  and 
more  solemnly  significant  than  he  no  owl  could 
appear. 

Vaguely  aware  that  something  was  incum- 
bent upon  him,  in  response  to  Tony's  magnetic 
appeal  he  ejaculated  huskily: 

"  The  Vanderpool !"  his  heavy  eyes  blinking 
slowly  upon  his  subjects. 

*  "What  more  was  needed?  The  chorus  now 
stared  instructively  at  the  baron,  who,  in  order 
to  reinstate  himself  in  public  opinion,  could  do 
no  less  than  hasten  to  observe : 

"Ah,  indeed!  Well,  I  rather  suspected  as 
much  from  the  first." 

He  repented  his  rashness,  but  realized  that  he 
could  never  maintain  his  legitimate  position  at 
that  table.  Accordingly  he  influenced  the  young 
gentleman  whose  privilege  it  was  to  be  his  com- 
panion on  this  summer  tour  to  leave  the  hotel 
the  next  day.  The  two  became  zealous  Insel- 
ites. 

After  this  episode,  which  teaches  us,  among 
other  things,  how  important  it  is  to  travel  with 
our  credentials,  no  valet  who  respected  himself 
could  afford  to  be  ignorant  of  Miss  Aurelia's 
social  position.  "  Permanents  "  and  "  transients" 


46  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

delighted  to  honor  her.  Everywhere  she  ap- 
peared she  met  with  profound  bows,  long  and 
respectful  looks.  The  director,  with  whomever 
he  might  be  speaking,  turned,  and  as  it  were  pre- 
sented arms  when  she  passed.  There  was  a 
palpable  stir  of  interest  when  she  entered  the 
dining-hall.  And  if  the  wheat  sheaves  in  the 
summer  fields  had  made  their  obeisance  to  her 
it  would  not  have  surprised  the  hotel  folk,  still 
less  Miss  Aurelia  herself.  For  modest  and 
gentle  as  she  was,  she  had  accustomed  herself 
with  surprising  rapidity  to  the  new  atmos- 
phere. Every  night  she  recorded  in  her  diary 
that  everybody  was  so  nice  and  amiable  and  civil 
it  was  a  pleasure  to  live.  She  enjoyed  being  a 
person  of  distinction,  and  drank  in  adulation  as 
a  flower  drinketh  dew. 

Meanwhile,  she  had  not  yet  made  her  appear- 
ance in  the  drawing-room.  Why,  she  did  not 
know.  It  had  happened  so.  Something  had 
detained  her  every  evening  in  her  own  room. 
Either  she  had  just  returned,  a  little  tired,  from 
a  walk,  and  Tony  put  her  into  her  wrapper  and 
slippers  and  made  her  so  comfortable  that  she 
had  no  wish  to  go  down-stairs  among  strangers ; 
or  there  was  something  to  try  on,  for  Miss 
Aurelia's  wardrobe,  like  her  spirit,  was  expand- 


TONY,  THE   MAID.  47 

ing  marvellously  under  Tony's  skilful  manipu- 
lation ;  or  Tony  brought  her  the  freshest  Tauch- 
nitz  volume,  or  related  some  long  experience 
which  not  only  hugely  entertained  her  mistress, 
but  also  increased  that  lady's  knowledge  of 
German,  and  Miss  Aurelia  considered  it  a  duty 
to  make  progress  in  foreign  languages.  What- 
ever was  the  cause,  Miss  Yanderpool,  for  some 
days  after  her  arrival,  produced  in  the  house  an 
impression  of  extreme  reserve  and  complete  in- 
difference to  her  fellow-lodgers.  This  enhanced 
her  value,  and  increased  their  curiosity  and  re- 
spect. 

In  the  ladies'  drawing-room,  where,  on  the  vast 
expanse  of  shining  floor,  small  and  isolated 
groups — like  a  kind  of  human  archipelago — 
gathered  evenings  with  needlework  and  looked 
askance  at  one  another,  Mrs.  High -Dudgeon 
reigned  supreme,  the  central  figure  of  the  most 
austerely  aristocratic  circle.  She  was  a  short, 
stout  woman  of  an  irate  expression  of  counte- 
nance, somewhat  like  the  Red  Queen  in  Alice. 
Whether  with  or  without  reason,  she  gave  one 
the  impression  that  her  clothes  were  too  tight, 
and  this  supposition  seemed  to  be  the  most 
charitable  explanation  of  her  chronic  irritability. 
She  was  usually  arrayed  in  a  thick,  reddish-pur- 


48  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

pie  satin,  which  creaked  and  lent  a  dusky  glow 
to  her  complexion.  When  a  new  name  was 
mentioned  in  her  hearing  she  invariably  sniffed 
and  snorted  in  a  belligerent  manner,  and  with  a 
harsh  and  husky  voice  and  reverberating  final 
emphasis,  demanded, 

"  Is  she  a  Ze%fM 

Mrs.  High-Dudgeon  had  spent  several  succes- 
sive summers  at  Constance.  As  no  one  by  any 
accident  had  ever  summoned  her  before  the  tri- 
bunal of  her  own  scathing  inquiry,  her  pre-emi- 
nence had  never  been  disputed.  Surrounded  by 
her  satellites,  a  piece  of  canvas  in  her  hand,  she 
entered  the  drawing-room  every  evening  at  a 
given  hour,  and  seated  herself  in  a  particular 
chair,  her  arms  motionless  before  her  like  a 
Chinese  idol's.  Her  presence  was  invaluable  in 
preserving  that  atmosphere  of  gloom  observable 
wherever  numerous  women  are  gathered  to- 
gether without  introductions. 

Nearest  to  her  in  the  social  scale  was  Mrs. 
Ruy-Bric,  a  grandmother  with  a  neat  and  light 
little  juvenile  figure,  which  she  arrayed  in  fash- 
ionable toilets  from  Paris.  Her  specialties 
were  religion  and  family,  upon  which  themes 
she  conversed  exclusively.  She  was  High 
Church,  so  high,  indeed,  that  her  spiritual  alti- 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  49 

tude  was  the  plane  of  eternal  ice  and  snow.  Her 
boundless  devotion  to  the  English  curate  was  a 
prominent  feature  in.  Constance  relationships 
that  summer.  He  was  a  roly-poly  little  man. 
possessed  of  an  inordinate  appetite,  an  unctuous 
voice,  and,  in  his  corporeal  structure,  of  what 
the  irreverent  called  a  bow-window.  Mrs.  Ruy- 
Bric  sat  next  him  at  dinner,  and  always  took  a 
double  portion  of  pastry  and  sweets  that  she 
might  tenderly  convey  them  to  his  plate,  while 
discoursing  upon  chasubles  and  stoles.  Often, 
late  at  night,  they  might  be  seen  sitting  together 
in  a  corner,  communing  in  low  tones. 

Mrs.  Ruy-Bric  never  ceased  to  deplore  the  lax- 
ity of  the  present  chaplain's  predecessor,  a  pale, 
sad,  lame  man,  who  was  devoting  the  entire 
power  of  his  frail  body  and  great  soul  to  a  min- 
ing population  in  Lancashire,  discovering  and 
nourishing  every  germ  of  good  in  beings  akin  to 
savages.  He  had  been  sent  for  a  few  weeks  to 
Switzerland,  and  had  officiated  three  Sundays 
at  Constance,  where  his  earnestness  was  sadly 
out  of  place. 

"  Ah,  he  was  Low,  dear  Mr.  Puggums,"  sighed 
Mrs.  Ruy-Bric,  in  the  twilight  tete-d-tete,  "ap- 
pallingly Low,  the  very  emanations  of  his  mind 
were  Low !" 

4 


50  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

And  Mr.  Pnggums,  "specially  appointed  by 
the  Bishop  of  London  " — if  that  dignitary  but 
knew  all  for  which  he  is  responsible  in  Conti- 
nental hotels! — nursed  his  rotund,  overfed  figure 
with  the  complacency  of  a  fetich,  and  gasped 
asthmatically  : 

"  Alas !  dear  Mrs.  Ruy-Bric,  he  was,  indeed, 
deplorably  Low!" 

Not  many  philosophers  strayed  to  Constance 
that  season,  yet  now  and  then  to  some  direct 
mind  occurred  a  simple  query,  why  could  this 
couple  do  with  impunity  what  was  forbidden  to 
youth  and  beauty?  Why  was  their  affair  legiti- 
mate, when  if  pretty  Jessie  lingered  a  moment 
on  the  veranda,  all  the  social  harpies  would  de- 
scend upon  her  and  tear  her  with  their  fierce 
claws  ?  Why  should  making  love  with  rosebuds 
be  pernicious,  and  what  saving  grace  was  there 
in  making  love  with  pastry  tarts!  Why — but 
this  why  leads  into  infinite  mazes.  The  differ- 
ence 'twixt  Tweedledum  and  Tweedledee  must 
always  obtain  in  worldly  congeries,  still  it  was 
a  comfort  to  many  to  designate  the  constant 
intercourse  of  Mrs.  Ruy-Bric  and  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Puggums  as  the  ecclesiastical  flirtation. 

There  were  others  who  frequented  the  draw- 
ing-room, some  of  whom  were  and  some  were 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  61 

not  recognized  by  Mrs.  Iligh-Dndgeon.  In  the 
hotel  were  also  many  families  and  individuals 
that  went  their  way  and  walked  and  drove  and 
boated,  gayly  unmindful  of  the  social  hierarchy. 
But  they  were  only  foreigners.  The  English- 
speaking  element  unanimously  acknowledged 
Mrs.  High-Dudgeon. 

The  High-Dudgeon  and  all  her  subjects  were 
now  breathlessly  awaiting  the  advent  of  Miss 
Yanderpool  in  their  midst.  Tony  let  them 
wait.  Every  day  the  fabulous  tales  of  the  Yan- 
derpool fortune,  family,  and  power  grew  in 
magnitude. 

"  They  may  be  a  trifle  exaggerated,  dear  Mrs. 
High-Dudgeon,"  Mrs.  Kuy-Bric  said  one  day. 
"  One  must  make  allowances.  Still,  where  there 
is  smoke  there  is  always  fire.  The  general  im- 
pression seems  to  be  that  her  fortune  is  limitless. 
Happily  she  also  has  family.  Great  wealth 
alone  is  so  vulgar.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  she 
is  somebody." 

"She  is  a  lady  !"  replied  Mrs.  High-Dudgeon, 
glaring  about  the  room  as  if  seeking  the  luck- 
less wight  who  should  dare  to  contradict  her. 

"And,  oh,  dear  Mr.  Puggums,  if  the  sweet 
creature  would  but  interest  herself  in  our  enter- 
prise !" 


52  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

"  And,  oh,  dear  Mrs.  Ruy-Bric,  what  a  privi- 
lege that  would  be  for  her!"  responded  Mr. 
Puggums  ecstatically. 

"  She  was  not  at  the  service  yesterday,"  the 
lady  said,  shaking  her  head  mournfully. 

"  She  may  have  been  ill,  let  us  always  bear  in 
mind." 

"  You  are  so  charitable,  so  magnanimous,  dear 
Mr.  Pnggums !" 

"  It  is  but  my  duty,"  he  replied,  stroking  him- 
self. 

"  Miss  Vanderpool  is  so  sweet-looking,  so  inter- 
esting." 

"She  is  spiritual,"  wheezed  little  Mr.  Pug- 
gums.  "She  should  be  one  of  us." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MISS  AURELIA  IS  LAUNCHED  AND  BECOMES  A 
SOCIAL  SUCCESS. 

WHEN,  one  evening,  Miss  Aurelia  drifted  into 
the  archipelago,  all  the  little  isolated  feminine 
groups  stopped  talking  and  looked  at  her.  This 
was  not  reassuring.  She  had  gained  consid- 
erable self-possession  during  the  previous  few 
weeks,  but  this  ordeal  was  too  much  for  her 
newly-fledged  powers,  and  in  a  great  tremor  she 
dropped  upon  the  nearest  chair.  She  was  there- 
fore innocently  grateful  when  Mr.  Puggums 
toddled  over  the  shining  floor  from  that  sacred 
spot  where  Mrs.  High-Dudgeon  sat  enthroned 
amid  her  worshippers,  and  when  he,  with  his 
most  unctuous  smile,  begged  the  stranger  to  join 
that  august  group.* 

Miss  Aurelia  blushed,  smiled,  fluttered,  and 
accepted  his  invitation.  As  she  walked  across 
the  room,  looking  very  tall  and  slight  beside 
the  globular  Mr.  Puggums,  every  eye  was  fixed 
upon  her.  Thanks  to  Tony,  she  presented  a 


54  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

most  creditable  appearance.  The  careful  and  de- 
cided arrangement  of  her  hair  lent  character  to 
the  shape  of  her  head.  Soft  and  judicious 
puffs  concealed  the  lankness  of  her  figure.  The 
cut  of  her  black  grenadine  was  faultless,  and  a 
nameless  something  betrayed  the  thorough  lady- 
like toilet,  equally  removed  from  pretence  and 
negligence.  Yet  every  woman  in  the  room  gave 
an  unconscious  sigh  of  relief,  and  the  fiat  of  ap- 
proval went  forth.  "Not  precisely  beautiful, 
you  know,  but  so  interesting,  so  feminine," 
murmured  one  person  of  social  weight.  "  Dis- 
tinguished," said  another.  "  Graceful,  don't  you 
think  so?"  whispered  a  third. 

In  short,  no  one  said  anything  unpleasant. 
Benevolence  and  charity  predominated.  The 
secret  of  this  unusual  reception  of  a  strange 
woman  by  her  own  sex  lay,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed, in  Miss  Aurelia's  personality,  which  pro- 
voked no  envy,  hatred,  or  malice.  So  decided- 
ly the  reverse  of  provocative  was  it,  indeed,  that 
her  sisters,  as  they  surveyed  her  charms,  unani- 
mously concluded  to  permit  her  to  enjoy  wealth, 
social  prestige,  and  a  good  character,  and  felt 
that  there  were  certain  compensations  in  life 
for  people  of  smaller  incomes  and  less  conven- 
tional renown. 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  65 

Let  us  admit  that  there  are  women  —  not, 
of  course,  your  kind  of  woman  or  my  kind  of 
woman — who  strenuously  oppose  the  unequal 
distribution  of  the  gifts  of  the  gods.  They  grant 
that  a  woman  is  pretty,  if  they  can  add,  "  Poor 
dear,  it's  a  pity  she's  so  stupid,"  or  they  admit 
that  she  is  clever,  provided  they  can  say,  "But 
how  unfortunately  plain."  If,  however,  a  wom- 
an's beauty  and  brightness  are  too  palpable  for 
even  them  to  deny,  they  are  sure  to  find  some-, 
thing  very  serious  the  matter  with  her  moral 
character.  To  concede  that  one  and  the  same 
woman  is  beautiful  and  clever,  good,  warm- 
hearted, rich,  and  socially  important — no,  they 
would  die  first!  Nothing,  then,  in  Miss  Aure- 
lia's  appearance  or  demeanor  clashed  with  these 
firm  and  widely-diffused  principles.  It  is,  in- 
deed, touching  to  observe  what  boundless  trust 
freckles,  sandy  hair,  and  a  wide  mouth  are  apt 
to  inspire  in  the  average  feminine  heart. 

Mrs.  High-Dudgeon,  with  some  effort,  raised 
one  of  her  dangling,  purple  satin  arms  and  ex- 
tended a  puffy  hand  of  welcome.  No  other 
mortal  had  ever  been  received  with  this  distin- 
guished mark  of  favor,  and  a  flutter  of  surprise 
was  perceptible  in  the  room.  Miss  Aurelia 
thought  that  they  were  all  very  kind  and  civil, 


56  TONY,  THE   MAID. 

though  a  little  queer.  Perhaps  that  was  be- 
cause she  was  unaccustomed  to  the  English,  who 
were,  she  had  heard,  often  eccentric.  Partly 
through  the  influence  of  their  encouraging 
smiles,  partly  from  her  nascent  self-respect,  she 
was  more  at  ease  than  she  usually  felt  with 
strangers,  and  Uncle  John  would  have  been  vast- 
ly surprised  had  he  seen  his  hitherto  shrinking 
niece  the  centre  of  an  admiring  group,  the  cyno- 
sure of  all  eyes,  unblushing,  unapologetic,  al- 
most unconcerned.  But  it  is  only  fair  to  add 
that  Miss  Aurelia  had  not  the  remotest  suspi- 
cion of  her  own  greatness ;  moreover,  whatever 
may  have  been  her  human  frailties,  she  was  em- 
phatically not  a  snob. 

She  said  little,  which  was  fortunate,  as  the 
others,  with  the  exception  of  the  being  in  royal 
purple,  said  a  great  deal.  But  Miss  Aurelia 
could  not  open  her  lips  without  receiving  the 
flattering  tribute  of  profound  attention,  followed 
by  ejaculations  of  interest,  pleasure,  and  admira- 
tion. She  happened  to  say  that  she  found  Con- 
stance very  pretty,  but,  perhaps,  less  picturesque 
than  Lucerne. 

"  Miss  Yanderpool  thinks,"  began  Mrs.  Ruy- 
Bric,  to  her  next  neighbor,  repeating  the  remark 
with  as  weighty  a  mien  as  if  she  were  com  muni- 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  57 

eating  an  aphorism  of  Hippocrates.  "  Miss  Van- 
derpool  thinks,"  echoed  another,  until  the  in- 
nocent observation  was  conveyed  to  the  out- 
skirts of  the  High-Dudgeon  coterie,  where  some- 
body was  amiable  enough  to  rise  and  convey  the 
precious  utterance  to  the  next  bevy  of  women, 
who,  if  not  quite  High-Dudgeonites,  were  still 
very  select  indeed,  and  careful  to  look  down 
upon  their  neighbors  on  the  other  side.  Like 
a  ripple  on  the  surface  of  the  water,  the  valuable 
information  spread  over  the  whole  archipelago, 
until  from  the  most  remote  corner  a  voice  was 
heard  announcing  with  enthusiasm,  "Miss  Yan- 
derpool  thinks." 

Miss  Aurelia  was  at  first  somewhat  bewildered. 
Her  pale  cheeks  flushed  slightly,  her  quiet  heart 
beat  faster  than  was  its  wont.  But  she  breathed 
in  the  strong  fumes  of  this  incense  with  grate- 
ful nostrils,  and  began  to  consciously  choose  her 
words. 

An  enchantingly  pretty  American  girl  of 
seventeen,  whose  mamma  was  a  candidate  for  the 
outer  chair  of  the  next  to  the  High-Dudgeon 
group,  had  the  temerity  to  peep  in  "  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  the  phenomenon,"  she  said.  She  was, 
for  various  reasons,  not  in  favor  at  court,  and 
the  ambitious  mamma,  fearing  the  downfall  of 


58  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

her  schemes,  reproved  her  daughter  for  so  much 
as  showing  her  saucy  head  within  the  precincts. 

"  Well,  mamma,  it  warn't  worth  while.  She's 
homely  enough,  I  must  say." 

"  Jessie,  how  often  have  I  told  you  to  say 
ugly.  Homely,  in  that  sense,  isn't  English." 

"Neither  am  I, thank  goodness,  and  neither' s 
Bob.  (Bob  was  her  brother,  a  very  bad  little 
boy,  who  was  always  going  fishing,  and  falling 
off  the  bridge,  or  tearing  his  trousers,  or  doing 
something  or  other  of  a  disreputable  character.) 
But,  mamma,  why  do  they  make  such  a  fuss 
over  her?  She's  mild  as  a  lamb,  but  not  a  bit 
smart,  I  guess." 

"  Clever,"  corrected  the  much-tried  mother, 
"and  'think,'  not  'guess.'" 

"  Well,  clever,  then.  Anyhow,  she's  a  regular 
stick.  How  do  you  say  that  in  English  ?" 

But  hers  was  merely  the  voice  of  ingenuous 
youth,  and,  as  usual,  it  was  lost  in  worldly  fogs 
and  distances.  Within  the  drawing-room  the 
sentiment  was  unanimous.  Miss  Aurelia  pleased 
and  was  pleased.  They  initiated  her  into  the 
tortuous  mazes  of  the  feud,  and  the  follies  of 
the  Inselites.  They  destroyed  the  characters  of 
all  the  hotel  guests,  outside  their  charmed  circle. 
And  they  persistently  invited  her  con  tempi  a- 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  69 

tion  of  a  church  at  that  time  building  in  a  vil- 
lage with  an  unpronounceable  name  in  Wales. 
She  found  the  tales  of  the  Inselites  very  amus- 
ing; laughed  gently  over  the  idiosyncrasies  of 
her  neighbors,  but,  while  she  listened  politely, 
she  wondered  that  they  should  take  such  pains 
to  describe  the  prospective  decorations  of  a 
structure  which  she,  in  all  probability,  would 
never  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing. 

"  I  should  think  it  might  be  very  pretty, "she 
replied,  civilly. 

"Oh,  do  you?  I'm  so  glad,  Mr.  Puggums, 
Miss  Vanderpool  thinks  it  might  be  very 
pretty." 

"  All  we  need  is  a  few  devoted  and  pure 
spirits,"  he  gurgled.  "  I  felt  sure  that  you,  my 
dear  young  friend,  would  take  an  interest  in  it. 
I  am  gratified  and  encouraged." 

Miss  Aurelia  could  not  imagine  why,  and 
merely  looked  at  him  seriously,  which  made 
him  hurriedly  change  the  subject,  fearing  that 
he  had  been  more  zealous  than  discreet. 

She  enjoyed  her  evening  extremely.  It  was 
to  her,  however,  a  novel  kind  of  enjoyment  and 
somewhat  fatiguing.  Most  women,  half  her  age, 
could  swallow  with  ease  as  much  adulation  as 
she  was  receiving.  But  this  was  simple-hearted 


GO  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

Miss  Aurelia's  first  experience  of  the  great 
world. 

She  began  to  long  for  seclusion,  her  wrapper, 
and  blithe  little  Tony.  Accordingly  she  rose, 
and  bade  her  new  friends  good-evening,  at  an 
eaYly  hour,  thanking  them  with  great  cordiality 
for  their  kindness.  Now,  no  one  of  that  party 
ever  dared  to  make  heradieux  before  Mrs.  High- 
Dtidgeon  gave  the  signal.  Miss  Aurelia's  in- 
dependent action  seemed,  therefore,  to  accord 
with  her  reputed  position,  and  created  the  best 
possible  impression.  "She  is  exclusive,"  they 
murmured,  admiringly. 

"She  is  a  lady!"  thundered  Mrs.  Iligh-Dud- 
geon,  as  Mr.  Puggums  closed  the  door  behind 
Miss  Vanderpool's  retreating  form. 

In  the  meantime  Tony  had  not  been  idle. 
Having  safely  launched  her  bark  upon  a  pros- 
perous sea,  wind  and  weather  being  all  that  the 
most  sanguine  soul  could  wish,  she  had  de- 
scended to  the  lower  regions  to  find  out  how 
the  world  wagged,  knowing,  what  many  philos- 
ophers ignore,  that  the  world  begins  its  gyra- 
tions down  there. 

And  there  in  the  servants'  hall,  where  the 
groupings  and  prevailing  views  bore  an  extraor- 
dinary resemblance  to  those  of  the  drawing- 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  61 

room,  she  had  heard  something  which  made  her 
warm  heart  feel  very  sorry  and  pitiful.  The 
merry,  big,  blond  man,  whose  office  it  was  to  re- 
ceive the  passengers  of  the  Insel  Hotel  omni- 
bus, in  other  words,  the  conductor,  had  made  a 
false  step  in  climbing  up  to  his  place  beside  the 
driver,  and  had  fallen,  and  the  great  wheel  had 
passed  over  his  leg,  which  was  fractured  in  t\vo 
places  and  badly  crushed.  Some  said  it  was 
his  fault,  some  said  it  was  the  coachman's  fault, 
and  some  shook  their  heads  helplessly  and  won- 
dered what  his  wife  and  his  six  children  would 
do  when  he  was  at  the  hospital,  earning  nothing. 
Some  regaled  themselves  with  similar  instances, 
in  which  the  crushed  man  died,  the  wife  came 
to  an  inexpressibly  bad  end,  and  the  children, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  to  the  gallows. 

Tony  listened  quietly,  then  skipped  away. 
Rapidly  passing  through  various  corridors  and 
rooms,  she  descended  a  private  stairway  and 
penetrated  unhesitatingly  to  the  den  of  the 
sphinx.  In  answer  to  her  knock  a  gruff  and 
unintelligible  sound  seemed  to  accord  permis- 
sion to  enter.  The  director  in  the  visible 
bureau  above  was  accustomed  to  every  kind  of 
apparition  and  complaint.  The  sphinx  down 
here  counted  his  gains  and  matured  his  plans 


62  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

undisturbed  by  mortal  presence.  Surprised,  he 
stared  grimly  at  her  over  his  spectacles. 

"  Good-evening,"  she  said,  cheerfully.  "  Please 
give  me  a  large  sheet  of  paper  for  a  subscription 
list  for  poor  Thomas  Straub." 

He  silently  handed  her  a  long  blue  sheet. 

"  Thanks.     Now  please  give  me  another." 

"  What  for?"  inquired  the  eyes  of  the  sphinx, 
who  knew  very  well  that  one  does  not  make 
money  in  this  world  by  improvident  gifts,  even 
of  paper. 

"To  make  a  rival  subscription  list  to  be  cir- 
culated among  the  Insel  Hotel  people,"  Tony 
replied,  demurely. 

The  serious -minded  man  smiled  a  strange 

o 

smile,  gave  her  a  second  long  blue  sheet,  and 
took  up  his  pen,  but  Tony  did  not  go. 

"  Straub  is  very  badly  hurt,  sir,"  she  said, 
pityingly. 

No  response.  The  silent  man  turned  down 
the  gas  slightly.  For  conversation  one  requires 
little  light. 

"  He  has  so  many  little  children,  and  they  are 
so  young.  His  wife  is  young,  too,  and  half  dead 
with  grief  and  anxiety.  And  they  are  very 
poor." 

Silence. 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  C3 

"  He  was  such  a  fine,  cheery  man,  sir,  and  has 
served  you  well  many  years." 

Not  a  muscle  of  his  face  moved. 

"  They  say  he  will  be  three  months  or  more 
in  the  hospital." 

Still  silence. 

"And  so  I  wanted  to  ask  you,  sir,"  she  con- 
tinued, quite  undismayed,  "if  the  two  hotels 
raise  five  or  six  hundred  marks,  if  we  can  count 
upon  you  for  another  hundred  or  so.  It  would 
be  kind  and  generous  of  you,  sir." 

No  reply,  but  she  knew  that  he  was  listening. 

The  fresh,  bright  voice  went  on  with  now  and 
then  a  little  quiver  in  it. 

"  How  would  you  or  I  feel,  sir,  crushed  and 
mangled  and  poor,  and  nobody  to  look  after  our 
families?  Wouldn't  we  have  more  courage  to 
bear  the  pain  and  get  well,  if  we  could  know 
our  fellow -creatures  were  sorry?  Sorry  with 
words — that's  cheap  business.  Sorry  with  our 
pockets — that  comes  from  the  heart." 

Again  she  waited,  then  began  again : 

"You  are  a  rich  man,  sir.  You  are  his  em- 
ployer. You  not  only  can  help  him  with  your 
money,  but  you  can  do  him  more  good  than  any 
one  else  in  the  world  can,  if  he  feels  you  are  his 
friend  in  his  misfortune.  He  looks  up  to  you. 


64  TONY,  THE   MAID. 

It  will  do  his  pride  good,  comfort  him,  comfort 
his  heart  and  his  leg,  his  soul  and  his  body,  if 
you  stand  by  him  now!" 

Never  before  had  a  warm  and  womanly  voice, 
in  unselfish  pleading,  been  heard  within  those 
four  narrow,  dingy  walls. 

"  And — knowing  my  duty — if  I  may  make  so 
bold,  you  ought  to  stand  by  him.  He  was  doing 
your  work  on  small  pay.  It  was  your  omnibus 
that  crushed  him,  with  its  great,  cruel  wheel." 

Now,  curiously  enough,  the  serious -minded 
man  had  a  heart  concealed  somewhere  in  his  or- 
ganism, but  no  one  ever  took  the  trouble  to 
reach  it.  From  the  nature  of  the  situation,  nei- 
ther his  heart  nor  the  hearts  of  his  summer 
guests  were  called  conspicuously  into  action  by 
their  mutual  relations.  This  small,  clear-voiced, 
clear-headed  woman  had  not  reckoned  in  vain. 
Receiving,  not  giving,  was  his  specialty;  still, 
we  all  have  latent  talents. 

He  looked  at  her,  and  nodded  slowly. 

"Good,"  she  said,  turning  to  go.  "I  knew 
you  would.  I  will  come  again.  Two  hundred 
marks  I  believe  you  said,  sir?" 

He  smiled  again  at  her  cheerful  tone  of  con- 
viction, but  nodded  assent;  then  for  the  first 
time  spoke. 


Polly  did  look,  but  all  she  saw  was  her  own  face  in  the  little 
mirror  of  the  fan  which  Tom  held  up. 


TONY,  THE   MAID.  63 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Tony,  Miss  Yanderpool's  maid,"  she  an- 
swered, with  her  pretty  smile. 

When  Miss  Aurelia  ascended  from  the  scene 
of  her  triumphs,  Tony  was  waiting  with  a  huge 
blue  subscription  paper  in  her  hand.  It  was 
drawn  up  for  the  benefit  of  Thomas  Straub,  and 
was  headed  by  Miss  Yanderpool  in  large  and 
masculine  characters. 

"  I  took  the  liberty  to  write  the  gracious  friiu- 
lein's  name  to  save  her  the  trouble.  I  did  not 
know  for  how  much." 

"But,  Tony,"  remonstrated  Miss  Aurelia, 
aghast,  "some  rich  person  ought  to  head  the 
list.  I  will  give  the  poor  man  something  so 
gladly ;  but  it  will  be  better  for  him  if  a  rich 
person  begins." 

"  I  don't  think  that  will  make  any  difference," 
Tony  replied,  calmly. 

Miss  Aurelia  did  not  wish  to  say  more  for 
fear  of  hurting  Tony's  feelings,  but  she  contin- 
ued to  regard  the  paper  with  dismay. 

"  If  the  gracious  f  riiulein  would  say  how  much 
she  would  like  to  subscribe." 

"  You  see,  Tony,"  began  Miss  Aurelia,  with 
candid  incoherence,  "I  have  so  much  a  month, 
and  out  of  that  I  am  in  the  habit  of  saving  a 


66  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

regular  sum  for  private  charities — old  Mrs.  John- 
son and  old  Miss  Beale — but,  dear  me,  I  forget, 
you  don't  know  them,  and  my  accounts  are  very 
confusing  to  me,  although  I  certainly  give  them 
great  attention,  and  when  they  won't  balance 
Uncle  John  helps  me  out ;  and  so,  with  the  new 
grenadine,  I  don't  exactly  know  where  I  am." 

"  The  gracious  fraulein  has  no  need  of  bal- 
ancing accounts,"  replied  Tony,  encouragingly. 
"  If  a  girl  like  me  couldn't,"  shaking  her  head, 
gravely,  "  that  would  be  very  bad.  But  it  is  so 
arranged  that  we  always  can,"  she  added,  mod- 
estly. "  Could  the  gracious  fraulein  spare  twen- 
ty marks  ?" 

"  Oh,  Tony  !  of  course.  But  what  is  five  dol- 
lars to  head  a  subscription?  I  can  give  ten; 
but—" 

"Ten?  That  is  forty  marks.  Now  we  are 
safe.  We  shall  have  a  small  fortune  for  Straub. 
If  the  gracious  fraulein  allows  I  will  quickly  put 
down  40  opposite  her  name,  and  take  the  paper 
to  the  drawing-room  while  the  ladies  are  still 
there." 

"  But,  Tony—" 

"It  is  quite  right.  It  is  perfect."  Off  flew 
Tony  with  the  paper. 

She  returned  an  hour  later,  with  a  long  list, 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  C7 

and  success  beyond  her  fondest  expectations. 
Five  hundred  marks  were  promised  her  for 
Straub.  The  other  blue  document,  under  the 
control  of  a  trustworthy  waiter,  was  already  in 
circulation  at  the  Insel,  with  the  statement  of 
the  sum  raised  at  the  Constanzer.  "  If  charity 
won't  spur  them  on,  competition  will,"  thought 
Tony.  "  I  don't  care  why  they  give  as  long  as 
Straub  gets  the  money." 

This  reflection  she  did  not  confide  to  Miss 
Aurelia,  nor  did  she  relate  the  interesting  de- 
tails of  her  tour  round  the  hotel.  How  she 
composedly  entered  the  drawing-room  and  smil- 
ingly presented  the  paper  to  no  less  a  personage 
than  Mrs.  High-Dudgeon.  How  that  lady  had 
made  a  wry  face,  but  put  her  name  down  for 
fifty  marks,  reasoning  that  she  could  not  allow 
even  Miss  Vanderpool  to  seem  to  prescribe  to 
her  the  extent  of  her  benevolence,  and,  as  lead- 
er of  society  in  Constance,  she  should  be  reluc- 
tant to  give  less  than  an  unmarried  woman. 
She  comforted  herself  with  the  thought  that,  to 
the  best  of  her  knowledge,  no  man  in  Constance 
had  ever  before  made  himself  an  object  of  char- 
ity by  getting  under  the  wheels  of  a  hotel  om- 
nibus, and  she  trusted  anything  so  inconvenient 
might  never  again  happen.  The  general  would 


68  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

simply  have  to  wear  his  old  dressing-gown  three 
months  longer. 

Mrs.  Ruy-Bric  gave  forty  marks.  She  smiled 
gallantly,  but  her  soul  writhed.  "  Painful  as  it 
is,  I  must  hold  my  own  with  her  for  the  sake 
of  the  little  church  in  Wales,"  she  murmured 
to  Mr.  Puggums,  who  gave — his  blessing. 

Some  one  indiscreetly  expressed  surprise  that 
Miss  Yanderpool  had  not  contributed  more. 
"But  you  know  people  of  immense  wealth  are 
always  parsimonious,"  replied  another.  Tony, 
not  understanding  the  words,  but  keenly  alive 
to  the  language  of  intonation  and  mien,  found 
occasion  to  introduce  a  somewhat  ornate  version 
of  what  Miss  Aurelia  had  just  mentioned  in  re- 
gard to  her  private  charities.  This  interesting 
item  was  added  to  the  floating  bits  of  gossip 
about  Miss  Yanderpool. 

Introduced  under  such  auspices — Miss  Yander- 
pool's  charity — the  subscription  naturally  proved 
a  success.  It  became  the  fashion,  the  enthusi- 
asm of  the  moment.  Up  and  down  the  long 
drawing-room  went  modest-looking,  smiling  lit- 
tle Tony,  with  her  long  blue  paper  and  her  def- 
erential, pretty  ways.  "  Miss  Yanderpool's  own 
maid,"  they  whispered.  Everybody  gave ;  many 
from  pure  kindness  of  heart,  some  because  oth- 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  69 

ers  gave.  Jessie's  mamma  made  a  fatal  mistake. 
She  happened  to  be  the  only  person  in  the  house 
with  genuine  silver-mine  connections;  but, hav- 
ing no  ambassador  to  properly  present  her  before 
the  foundations  of  society,  her  claims  to  public 
veneration  were  unknown.  Thinking  to  please 
or  impress  her  neighbors,  she  signed  her  name 
with  a  flourish,  and,  taking  out  her  purse,  gave 
Tony  a  hundred-mark  bank-note  on  the  spot. 
From  that  evening  Mrs.  High-Dudgeon  did  not 
recognize  her.  It  was  the  deathblow  to  her  so- 
cial aspirations.  Still,  Thomas  Straub's  wife 
and  children  lived  several  weeks  on  the 
twenty -five- dollar  donation  which  vanity  had 
prompted. 

Miss  Yanderpool's  name  carried  everything 
before  it.  Then  Tony  had  a  wonderfully  keen 
eye.  Where  a  face  showed  one  benevolent  yield- 
ing line,  there  she  stood  with  her  blue  paper  and 
her  magnetism. 

The  Insel  Hotel  guests,  as  she  had  anticipated, 
also  gave  liberally.  Determined  not  to  be  out- 
done by  the  Constanzer,  and  aggrieved  that  the 
latter  had  taken  the  initiative  in  a  matter  which, 
after  all,  concerned  their  own  omnibus,  they  in- 
dignantly contributed  six  hundred  marks  to  the 
support  of  the  imfortunate  man's  family. 


70  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

Tony  took  the  two  subscription  lists  and  the 
cash  down  to  the  serious  man  in  his  den.  He 
read  the  names,  counted  the  money,  and  added 
his  promised  two  hundred  marks,  after  which 
they  performed  the  ceremony  of  shaking  hands 
heartily.  She  deposited  the  money  in  the  bank, 
and  joyfully  carried  the  receipt  for  it,  and  the 
subscription  papers,  to  Thomas  Straub's  young 
wife.  On  the  Constanzer  list  "A.  Z."  was  writ- 
ten very  small  indeed ;  and  who  could  suspect 
"  A.  Z."  meant  Tony.  Opposite  stood  ten  marks, 
which  was  a  fourth  of  her  month's  wages. 
Straub's  wife  wept  over  her,  and  cried  "  Yer- 
gelt's  Gott,"  and  asked  her  whom  she  must 
thank.  "  I  am  only  the  maid,"  returned  Tony, 
smiling  with  delight.  "Thank  Miss  Vander- 
pool ;  she  led  the  list." 


CHAPTEK  Y. 

MISS  AURELIA  YIELDS  TO  TEMPTATION. 

Miss  AURELIA,  having  had  greatness  thrust 
upon  her,  gradually  began  to  suffer  from  a  com- 
plaint which  in  her  lowly  days  she  had  never 
experienced — ennui.  When  shy  and  unknown, 
she  used  to  steal  into  a  hotel  drawing-room,  her 
book  in  her  hand.  She  was  at  liberty  to  read  if 
she  wished,  or  to  watch  the  people  covertly,  and 
indulge  in  innocent  speculations  about  them. 
Occasionally  some  woman,  also  shy  and  alone, 
would  speak  to  her.  This  had  been  pleasant, 
and  made  a  little  variety. 

Her  previous  condition  was,  in  short,  freedom 
— the  dove's  conception  of  freedom,  not  the  ea- 
gle's, but  freedom  all  the  same.  Now  she  was 
in  bondage.  Every  evening  she  took  her  ap- 
pointed place.  Every  evening  she  heard  the 
self-same  phrases.  Her  own  mental  horizon  was 
not  vast,  but,  indeed,  it  stretched  beyond  the 
monotonous  pretence  and  narrowness  of  ill-nat- 
ured platitudes.  She  was  not  clever,  but,  at 


72  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

least,  she  was  clever  enough  not  to  call  every 
woman  who  happened  to  be  cleverer  or  prettier 
than  she  "  second-rate."  She  began  to  weary  of 
it  all,  of  the  dull  malice,  of  the  habitual  denigra- 
tion, and  especially  of  that  ubiquitous  little 
church  in  Wales,  which,  wherever  the  conver- 
sation started,  was  always  looming  up  in  the 
background  with  its  pressing  need  of  a  thousand 
pounds  sterling  to  make  it  "  so  precious,  so  per- 
fect, dearest  Miss  Vanderpool !"  She  wearied 
of  their  voices,  of  their  manners,  and — oh,  trea- 
son— she  even  wearied  of  the  purple  satin  and 
all  that  therein  was. 

Afternoons  it  was  not  much  better.  Once 
enrolled  in  those  ranks  there  was  no  escape. 
Frequently  Mrs.  High-Dudgeon's  majestic  and 
dreary  servant  came  with  a  few  lines  inviting 
Miss  Vanderpool  to  a  social  cup  of  tea  at  four 
o'clock,  "  quite  among  ourselves."  And  there 
they  all  were,  six  or  eight  satellites  revolving 
around  the  shining  purple  satin — Mrs.  Ruy-Bric, 
Mr.  Puggums,  and  the  little  church  in  Wales. 

Even  mornings  she  had  no  peace,  for  dearest 
Miss  Yanderpool  was  affectionately  solicited  to 
bring  her  embroidery  over  to  Mrs.  Kuy-Bric's 
balcony,  where  were  also  the  Rev.  Mr.  Puggurns 
and  the  L.  C.  in  W. 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  73 

For  these  rites  Tony  zealously  dressed  her 
mistress,  and  congratulated  herself  that  Miss 
Anrelia  was  enjoying  life  at  last.  Tony  her- 
self would  have  found  no  entertainment  in  such 
staid  diversions.  A  glass  of  beer  at  a  little  ta- 
ble in  a  shady  garden  with  somebody  who  knew 
her  well  and  loved  her;  cheerful  couples  at  oth- 
er tables,  a  swarm  of  children  in  their  Sunday 
pinafores,  everybody  clean,  kindly,  and  respec- 
table, and  a  band  playing  away  like  mad — this 
was  nearer  Tony's  idea  of  enjoyment.  But  she 
knew  English-speaking  people  liked  to  take  their 
pleasure  lugubriously,  and  was  liberal  enough 
to  be  willing  that  they  should  be  happy  in  their 
own  way.  She  knew  that  in  a  Continental  ho- 
tel frequented  by  the  English,  and  boasting  a 
permanent  set  of  English  lodgers,  there  must 
always  be  a  perpetual  ferment  and  striving  for 
social  recognition,  and  that  lakes  and  mountains 
have  no  power  to  calm  and  satisfy  the  soul,  if 
the  leading  lady  does  not  receive  one;  it  was 
also  her  firm  conviction  that  most  English-speak- 
ing people  are  wretched  if  not  noticed  by  some- 
body quite  inferior  to  themselves. 

Already  Miss  Aurelia  looked  like  a  different 
being,  wore  faultless  toilets,  carried  herself  with 
considerable  self-possession,  was  the  pride  of  the 


74  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

house,  had  become,  indeed,  so  celebrated  that 
the  Insel  Hotel  had  set  up  an  heiress  of  "its  own, 
to  compete  with  her.  Tony  was  satisfied  with 
her  work.  But  Miss  Aurelia  —  alas!  she  was 
not  happy. 

"Why,  she  did  not  know.  Everybody  was  so 
attentive,  she  reproached  herself  for  her  ingrati- 
tude. She  had  singular  thoughts  about  Mrs. 
High-Dudgeon  and  the  others,  and  she  feared 
she  had  become  very  wicked  indeed.  If  she 
could  only  have  seen  herself  and  them  and 
laughed  !  But  she  took  them  all  seriously,  and 
grew  daily  more  confused.  Church  and  Sunday 
caused  her  many  misgivings. 

At  home  she  had  been  considered  fairly  relig- 
ious, as  she  always  went  to  church  Sunday  morn- 
ings if  it  did  not  rain ;  and  at  the  Lenten  ser- 
vices, when  the  clergyman  said  "  Dearly  beloved 
brethren,"  she  was  usually  one  of  the  intrepid 
band  of  women  in  the  cold  vestry  whom  he  ad- 
dressed under  this  flattering  title.  She  could 
not  remember  that  in  church  at  home  she  had 
ever  had  unholy  thoughts.  But  in  the  room 
appropriated  by  the  English  for  their  Sunday 
services  she  was  conscious  of  irregular  impres- 
sions from  which  her  conscience  recoiled.  In 
the  first  place,  try  as  hard  as  she  would,  she  could 


TONY,  THE   MAID.  75 

not  make  it  seem  like  church,  with  the  click  of 
the  billiard-balls  in  the  next  room  but  one,  and 
children  shouting  French  on  the  lawn,  and  a 
splendid  chorus  of  men's  voices  singing  German 
love-songs  in  a  beer-garden  a  short  distance  be- 
yond the  hotel.  In  the  front  row  of  worship- 
pers stood  Mrs.  Ruy-Bric  in  a  Paris  toilet,  making 
profound  courtesies  to  the  deity.  Mr.Puggums 
preached  upon  the  necessity  of  supporting  Eng- 
lish chaplains  in  Continental  hotels ;  plainly  inti- 
mated that  he  was  living  upon  the  voluntary  con- 
tributions of  the  little  congregation,  which  he 
reproached  with  asperity  for  its  shortcomings  in 
this  respect.  Was  it  quite  delicate  to  speak  so, 
Miss  Aurelia  timorously  asked  herself.  Was 
Mr.  Puggums's  support  an  imperative  condition 
of  the  spiritual  growth  of  those  present? 
Couldn't  people  read  their  prayer-books  in  their 
rooms  ?  Or,  if  they  chose  to  gather  together, 
could  they  not  be  less  conspicuous,  less  aggres- 
sive? Need  they  take  possession  of  one  of  the 
public  reading-rooms  ?  What  if  the  Lutherans, 
or  the  Roman  Catholics,  or  the  Spiritualists 
should  proceed  in  this  masterful  manner  ?  Why 
the  English,  in  view  of  so  unpardonable  a  liber- 
ty, would  leave  in  a  body.  The  foreigners  bore 
it  amiably  enough.  They  shrugged  their  shoul- 


76  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

ders  and  said,  "  They  are  English ;  what  can 
you  expect?"  Still,  should  not  one  consider 
other  people's  rights  even  in  the  exercise  of 
one's  religion  ? 

Near  her,  two  bright-faced  boys  sat  uneasily 
on  the  hard  dining-room  chairs  which  the  grin- 
ning waiters  had  brought  in  and  arranged  under 
Mr.  Puggums's  fussy  directions.  The  boys,  when 
they  dared,  looked  longingly  out  of  the  window 
towards  the  lake,  shining  and  warm  under  the 
August  sun,  and  gleaming  temptingly  through 
the  trees.  And  if  they  were  on  the  water,  in 
the  water,  what  then  ?  Would  it  not  profit  them 
at  least  as  much  as  to  be  scolded  by  Mr.  Pug- 
gums  because  the  contributions  were  not  lavish  ? 
"  Oh,  how  wicked  I  am  !"  she  thought,  and  spas- 
modically listened  to  Mr.  Puggums's  discourse ; 
but  the  sounds  from  without  attracted  her,  and 
again  her  mind  wandered.  There  was,  after  all, 
something  amiable  about  the  ungodly,  something 
gentle  and  winning.  She  had  often,  especially 
in  these  latter  days,  noticed  a  family  of  Portu- 
guese, she  imagined,  at  all  events,  they  were  very, 
very  foreign.  There  were  seven  children,  with 
sweet  voices  and  dusky,  loving  eyes,  and  the 
oldish  father  and  mother  sat  often  on  a  garden 
bench,  actually  hand  in  hand.  They  had  a  title 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  77 

or  two  in  their  own  land,  which  they  used  sim- 
ply as  a  matter  of  course — not  being  accustomed 
to  anything  better — and  they  entertained  old- 
fashioned  ideas  about  courtesy  and  loyalty. 
Three  of  their  little  girls  were  pushing  the 
ivory  balls  about,  counting  five  when  they  pock- 
eted one,  and  some  of  their  boys  were  playing 
with  the  great  Leonberger  dog  on  the  lawn. 
None  of  them  were  making  much  noise,  and 
their  pretty  voices  sounded  glad  and  innocent. 
Miss  Aurelia  sighed  to  think  that  the  path  of 
virtue  could  be  so  thorny. 

This  memorable  Sunday  was  oppressively 
warm.  Extreme  heat  and  cold,  according  to 
criminal  statistics,  produce  desperation  in  the 
human  mind,  and  the  temperature  may  have 
been  in  part  responsible  for  Miss  Aurelia's  ab- 
normal condition.  She  never  before  was  pur- 
sued by  such  thoughts,  never  was  so  sadly  con- 
scious of  depravity.  At  dinner,  even  the  much- 
thumbed  and  tattered  rubber  plants  which 
adorned  the  table  d'hote  were  curling  up  in 
utter  recklessness;  the  waiters  skimmed  about 
with  an  exhausted  air,  and  the  frescoes  of  natu- 
ral and  historical  scenes  along  the  lake  of  Con- 
stance— landscapes  at  which  the  guests  were  apt 
to  stare  between  the  courses — seemed  to  pro- 


78  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

ject  rays  of  tropical  heat  from  their  glaring  sur- 
faces. 

Opposite  Miss  Aurelia,  Mrs.  Ilny-Bric  surrep- 
titiously loaded  Mr.  Puggums's  plate  with  sweet- 
meats. Neither  his  appetite  nor  her  devotion 
were  affected  by  the  outward  caloric.  Near  her 
Mrs.  High-Dudgeon  looked  most  portentous  and 
forbidding.  Across  the  room,  at  a  separate  ta- 
ble, sat  the  ungodly  Portuguese  family,  after  all 
their  Sabbath-breaking,  cool,  comfortable,  and 
unconscious  of  their  sins.  The  dark-eyed  girls 
were  dressed  in  simple  white,  the  father  smiled 
at  his  eldest  boy,  the  mother  was  as  motherly, 
affectionate,  and  contented  as  mortal  woman 
could  be.  Miss  Aurelia  contemplated  them,  and 
her  wicked  thoughts  continued. 

That  afternoon  she  again  attended  divine  ser- 
vice in  the  reading-room,  and  felt  singularly 
unhappy  and  depressed.  Afterwards  Mrs.  Ruy- 
Bric  whispered  to  her  that  they  all  depended 
upon  their  sweet  Miss  Vanderpool  to  join  them 
in  the  drawing-room  that  evening,  where  they 
should  sing  psalms  and  hymns.  It  was  really 
a  duty  where  there  was  so  much  levity ;  other- 
wise people  would  amuse  themselves.  Miss 
Aurelia  shuddered. 

She  went  up  to  her  room,  where  Tony  was 
arranging  the  jalousies  and  singing  blithely. 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  79 

"  What  have  you  done  to-day,  Tony  ?  Have 
you  enjoyed  yourself?" 

"  And  how  much !"  exclaimed  the  girl. 
"  First  I  went  to  mass,  and  then  I  arranged  ev- 
erything for  the  gracious  friiulein,  knowing  my 
duty,  and  this  afternoon,  with  gracious  permis- 
sion to  go  out,  I  enjoyed  myself  vastly.  The 
garden  was  breezy  and  cool,  the  people  so  kind, 
the  music  beautiful.  Then  the  sail  over  and 
back !  The  gracious  f raulein  knows  I  am  a 
miserable  coward  in  a  small  boat.  But  a  big 
steamer  with  music  and  an  awning.  Ah  1" 

Miss  Aurelia  looked  at  her  long  and  wist- 
fully. 

"  Tony,"  she  began,  after  a  pause,  "  do  you 
not  know  some  nice  place  where  we  could  go, 
and  where"  —  she  hesitated,  coughed,  gasped, 
blushed,  looked  frightened,  knew  that  she  was 
wicked,  yet  was  impelled  to  go  on  —  "where 
there  are  no — no  English  ?" 

Tony  turned  quickly  and  scrutinized  her  mis- 
tress. 

"  Why  yes,  surely,"  she  replied,  smiling. 

"  I  mean  where  there  are  foreigners." 

"  And  you  a  New  England  woman  !"  moaned 
her  conscience. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  know  places  where  there  are. nice 


80  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

Germans  and  French  people,  so  amiable,  and  of 
excellent  family." 

"  I  don't  think  I  care  about  much  family," 
said  Miss  Aurelia,  plaintively. 

"  Oh,  it's  a  very  different  thing,"  returned 
Tony,  in  quick  response  to  Miss  Aurelia's 
thought.  "I  know  a  place  where  there  are 
counts  and  barons  and  now  and  then  a  prince 
or  two,  but  they  are  easy  about  it  and  kind  to 
all  the  world,  like  those  distinguished  Portu- 
guese." 

"That's  what  I  mean,"  said  Miss  Aurelia, 
brightening,  "  kind  people." 

"Now  and  then  an  English-speaking  person 
may  happen  along,"  Tony  reflected. 

"  Oh,  I  shouldn't  mind  that,"  Miss  Aurelia 
returned,  magnanimously,  "  that  is,  if  she  didn't 
stay  too  long,  and  was  not  too — too — 

"  Proper !"  suggested  Tony,  demurely. 

"  Or  too  severe,"  Miss  Aurelia  ventured  to  add. 

"And  dull," said  Tony. 

"  And  puffed  up." 

"  And  domineering." 

"And  censorious." 

"  And  solemn  as  an  owl." 

"  And  if  she  would  not  always  call  her  neigh- 
bors second-rate." 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  81 

"  Or  sing  out  of  tune." 

"  Or  talk  about  High  Church  decorations, 
or  diseases ;  but,  oh,  Tony,  I  fear  we  are  very 
wicked." 

"  Not  at  all,  not  at  all !"  she  declared,  with  a 
jolly  little  laugh. 

"You  see,  Tony,  I  am  so  tired  of  some 
things,  and  I  have  such  a  longing  to  be  among 
people  who  are  kind  and  who  enjoy  them- 
selves." 

"  Of  course.  And  what  is  more  natural  and 
right?  Ought  the  gracious  fraulein  to  wish  to 
be  among  people  who  are  unkind  and  do  not 
enjoy  themselves  or  let  anybody  else  enjoy  any- 
thing ?" 

"  Well,  Tony,  you  may  pack.  We  will  leave 
to-morrow." 

"  Yery  good,  gracious  fraulein." 

"  And,  Tony,  I  think  I  would  like  to  take  a 
stroll  along  the  lake.  Do  you  happen  to  know 
any  little  way  out,  that  would  not  lead  past  the 
drawing-room  or  the  broad  piazza,  or  anywhere 
in  fact  where  I  might  meet — might  meet — " 

Presently  Miss  Aurelia  was  sauntering  down 
a  secluded  garden  path,  while  Tony  rapidly  and 
systematically  began  the  work  of  packing. 

"I  have  made  a  mistake,"  she  admitted. 
G 


82  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

"  She  doesn't  like  it.  It  is  too  heavy  for  her, 
and  no  wonder.  Never  mind.  It  has  im- 
proved her.  She  will  enjoy  herself  all  the 
better  next  time,  and  she's  a  dear,  good,  inno- 
cent, sweet-tempered  lady.  When  we  get 
among  the  real  ones  she'll  be  contented  as  a 
kitten." 

Meanwhile  Miss  Aurelia  wandered  on,  her 
thoughts  in  a  strange  whirl.  She  was  elated 
by  the  prospect  of  escape,  and  proud  of  her 
unwonted  energy  and  initiative. 

On  a  garden  bench  sat  the  oldish  Portuguese 
couple  hand  in  hand,  quiet,  contented,  gazing 
silently  at  the  lake.  "  That  is  pretty  —  very 
pretty,"  thought  Miss  Aurelia  as  she  passed,  a 
strange  sensation,  neither  very  sad  nor  yet 
pleasurable,  and  which  she  chose  to  call  "a 
little  homesick,"  taking  possession  of  her.  She 
was  far  too  proper  to  consciously  wish  some- 
body would  sit  by  her  and  hold  her  hand  in 
the  twilight,  but  she  vaguely  suspected  that  she 
had  not  got  as  much  out  of  life  as  some  people. 

Suddenly  she  met  a  young  gardener,  with  his 
wife  and  child,  coming  home  from  their  Sun- 
day outing.  The  little  thing  was  tired  and 
fretful,  and  the  father  swung  him  up  to  his 
own  strong  shoulder,  while  the  mother  com- 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  83 

forted  him  with  the  loving  tone  that  makes 
any  voice  and  any  language  sweet.  "How 
happy  everybody  is!"  sighed  Miss  Aurelia. 
She  was  herself  by  no  means  unhappy.  On 
the  contrary.  For  she  remembered  the  for- 
bidding circle  assembled  in  the  drawing-room 
and  waiting  in  vain  for  her.  She  should,  per- 
haps, never  see  them  again !  She  and  Tony 
would  slip  away  by  the  first  train,  before  any 
one  was  aware  of  their  intentions.  Delightful 
thought. 

She  stood  on  the  shore.  The  lake  lay  before 
her  with  long  golden  gleams  reflected  in  its 
placid  depths.  The  sky  was  beautiful  with  the 
last  lingering  glories  of  the  sunset.  The  old 
monastery  held  itself  bravely  above  the  tree- 
tops.  Beneath  the  arched  bridge,  with  its  an- 
cient statues  of  warriors  and  dignitaries,  the 
strong  Rhine  stream  swept  on  in  haste. 

In  her  unwonted  warm  and  receptive  mood 
Miss  Aurelia's  thoughts  assumed  defined  shapes. 
The  reaction  from  the  High-Dudgeon  and  Ruy- 
Bric  influence  drove  her  into  untrodden  paths 
of  reflection. 

"  Yes,  I  should  really  like  to  be  among  peo- 
ple who  are  kind  and  who  enjoy  themselves 
exactly  as  they  please,  without  knowing  that 


84  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

they  are  doing  wrong."  This  may  be  incohe- 
rent, but  it  is  precisely  what  Miss  Anrelia  was 
thinking.  Then  she  grew  a  little  troubled,  for 
the  problems  which  circumstances  and  her  men- 
tal development  had  created  were  surely  rather 
perplexing. 

"  Is  being  kind,  being  good  ?"  she  asked  her- 
self, searchingly.  "  It  almost  seems  so  to  me,  al- 
though I  fear  I  am  very  wicked  to  even  think 
of  such  a  tiling.  I  must  talk  about  it  all  with 
Mr.  Brown  when  I  return  home,  and  tell  him 
about  the  billiard  -  balls  pushed  about  by  those 
gentle  little  girls.  I  think  it  is  pleasant  when 
people  don't  know  that  they  are  doing  wrong. 
It  is  certainly  pleasanter  than  when  people  are 
so  dreadfully  sure  that  they  alone  always 
do  right.  At  all  events,  since  I  am  over  here, 
simply  travelling  for  pleasure,  I  would  rather 
see  the  happy  people.  And  it  seems  to  me,  if 
we  don't  like  what  foreigners  do,  and  if  we 
consider  them  so  bad,  we'd  better  stay  at  home. 
Of  course  there  are  things  that  they  do  Sun- 
days which  we  couldn't  possibly  do.  Beer  and 
music,  under  a  tree,  for  instance.  I  don't  know 
that  the  beer  is  wrong,  or  the  music,  or  the  tree; 
but  the  combination  does  seem  wicked.  That 
is,  for  me.  But  is  it  for  Tony  ?  Mr.  Brown, 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  85 

himself,  told  me  once  he  did  not  think  a  quiet 
drive  in  the  woods  Sunday  afternoon  in  itself 
a  sin.  Then,  so  far  as  beer  is  concerned,  most 
people  at  home  have  their  best  dinners  Sunday. 
Dear,  dear,  it  is  very  confusing.  And  if  a 
phaeton  in  the  woods  is  not  a  sin,  why  is  a 
boat  on  the  water  ? 

"I  do  want  to  see  foreigners  and  happy  peo- 
ple— families  and  children.  And  I  would  like 
to  see  more  men.  Not,  of  course,  for  myself," 
she  assured  herself  with  a  maidenly  blush,  "but 
I  do  like  to  see  them  about,  that  is  when  they 
are  not  as  short  and  fat  as  Mr.  Puggums,  or  so 
infirm  as  poor  old  General  High-Dudgeon.  I'm 
afraid  he  isn't  very  happy !  It  does  seem  nat- 
ural and  cheerful  to  see  men  with  their  fami- 
lies. The  Portuguese  gentleman,  for  instance — 
and  the  gardener,  just  now,  was  very  nice." 

Miss  Aurelia's  innocent  cogitations  were 
founded  upon  fact.  Cleopatra  would  have  had 
a  sad  time  of  it  at  the  Constanzer  Hof,  for 
there  were  "  no  men  to  govern  "  there.  Or,  to 
be  quite  accurate,  there  were  a  few  feeble  rep- 
resentatives of  the  stronger  sex,  but  they  were 
already  so  thoroughly  governed  that  Cleopatra 
herself  could  not  have  won  a  single  glance 
from  their  weary,  sad,  and  downcast  eyes.  Miss 


86  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

Aurelia  considered  them  categorically,  and 
found  herself  dwelling  with  a  kind  of  guilty 
pleasure  upon  the  conspicuous  exception  to 
them  all,  the  lord  and  master  of  the  handsome, 
smiling,  immoral,  happy  Portuguese  family. 

"  I  must  really  talk  with  Mr.  Brown.  I  hope 
he  will  not  find  too  great  laxity  in  my  views. 
I  have  often  heard  that  European  travel  un- 
settles one.  Yes,  I  must  certainly  talk  with 
Mr.  Brown." 

She  was  now  walking  along  the  shore  road 
directly  by  the  water.  There  were  pleasant 
seats  under  the  trees,  and  the  air  was  soft  and 
still.  Boats  were  gliding  about  far  and  near. 
She  listened  to  the  rhythmical  dip  of  the  oars, 
and  to  songs  from  gardens,  voices  and  laughter. 
The  identical  melody,  to  which,  in  the  Pug- 
gums  church-service  that  morning,  a  hymn  had 
been  slowly  and  discordantly  dragged  along  to 
the  glory  of  God,  now  resounded  at  a  rapid 
tempo, -and  sung  with  feeling  and  musical  in- 
tonation by  thirty  trained  voices,  swinging  and 
swaying  passionately,  in  its  original  guise  as  an 
old  German  love-song. 

"  Why  is  it  holy  to  sing  it  slow,  and  wicked 
to  sing  it  fast?"  she  asked  herself. 

"It  is  really  very  confusing.     Perhaps  I'd 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  87 

better  go  in,"  walking  slowly  on,  reluctant  to 
leave  the  pretty  scene,  and  conscious  that  she 
had  not  courage  to  meet  the  hotel  faction  face 
to  face,  and  assert  her  independence. 

"  I  will  go  as  far  as  the  steps  and  then  turn." 

They  were  broad  marble  steps,  descending 
into  the  lake,  with  a  suggestion  of  Venice  in 
their  stateliness  and  the  water  rippling  always 
against  the  stone. 

She  went  as  far  as  the  steps  but  she  did  not 
turn. 

Leaning  against  the  carved  balustrade,  in  one 
of  the  most  graceful  attitudes  ever  designed 
by  mortal  man,  stood  a  beautiful  and  pictur- 
esque youth.  He  was  tall,  slight,  and  hand- 
somely sun-browned.  He  wore  a  jaunty  blue- 
flannel  sailor-suit,  coquettishly  if  not  generously 
open  at  the  throat,  and  adorned  with  silver  an- 
chors everywhere  that  it  was  possible  to  apply 
them.  A  critical  eye  might  have  found  him, 
to  say  the  least,  theatrical.  Miss  Aurelia  gazed 
at  him  entranced. 

With  an  engaging  smile,  he  pulled  off  his 
cap.  His  teeth  were  as  white,  his  eyes  as  blue, 
as  Tony's. 

"  Gracious  fraulein,"  he  said,  "  may  I  have 
the  honor  of  taking  you  out  for  a  row  ?" 


88  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

His  well -cushioned  little  white  boat  bobbed 
temptingly  up  and  down,  and  grazed  the  mar- 
ble steps.  He  looked  at  her  with  bold,  it  al- 
most seemed  to  her,  with  admiring  eyes.  No 
man  had  ever  stood  before  her  with  that  gal- 
lant air. 

"  You  are — "  she  began,  hesitatingly. 

"  Fritz  Binder,  at  your  service ;  boatman, 
fisherman,  and  guide.  Acquainted  with  every 
fact  of  interest  on  the  lake  and  particularly  ac- 
customed to  ladies,"  he  rattled  off,  with  a  flu- 
ency only  attainable  by  means  of  infinite  repe- 
tition. 

Miss  Aurelia  looked  at  him  innocently,  won- 
deriugly,  rapturously. 

"It  is  Sunday,"  moaned  her  long-suffering, 
highly-scandalized,  New  England  conscience. 

Fritz  Binder  sweetly  smiled,  pulled  the  prow 
of  his  skiff  well  up  on  the  second  marble  step, 
and  striding  in  with  his  long,  athletic  legs, 
deftly  arranged  the  cushions  in  the  stern. 
Holding  the  boat  with  one  foot,  the  other 
placed  firmly  upon  the  step,  balancing  him- 
self easily,  he  turned  the  whole  battery  of  his 
dark  blue  eyes  and  winning  smiles  upon  his 
victim. 

She  gave  one  backward  glance  towards  the 


"WITH  AN   ENGAGING    SMILE   HE   PULLED   OFF   HIS   CAP." 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  89 

hotel  where,  in  unimpeachable  respectability, 
the  English  circle  was  gathered  about  that  little 
church  in  Wales.  She  looked  cautiously  up 
and  down  the  curving,  dusky  road.  From  gar- 
dens and  passing  boats  floated  music  and  happy 
laughter.  The  lake  was  one  vast  expanse  of 
dim,  rosy  gold. 

Motionless,  silent,  smiling,  Fritz  Binder 
waited. 

Call  no  woman  discreet  until  she  dies. 

Miss  Aurelia,  with  a  long,  fluttering  sigh, 
stepped  into  his  little  bobbing  boat. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  ROMANTIC  BOATMAN  FRITZ  BINDER  OVER- 
THROWS TONY'S  BEST-LAID   PLANS. 

TONY  the  wise,  it  may  be  the  almost  too 
wise,  virgin,  with  all  her  forethought,  never 
suspected  that  while  she  blithely  sang  and 
whistled  and  folded  and  packed,  the  foolish 
virgin  was  reclining  upon  cushions  and  skim- 
ming over  the  golden  lake.  Entranced,  Miss 
Aurelia  watched  handsome  Fritz  Binder's  lazy, 
swaying  motion,  listened  to  the  click  of  the 
oars  in  the  rowlocks,  the  soft  fall  of  the  water 
drops  from  the  blades,  the  thud  of  the  waves 
on  the  prow.  Against  the  fading  sunset  sky 
the  towers  of  the  old  city  and  the  arched  bridge 
receded  in  mysterious  dimness.  The  shores 
grew  indistinct.  On  they  sped  in  the  warm, 
dusky,  languid  summer  night. 

Miss  Aurelia,  in  plain  English,  let  herself  go. 
Tony  had  unwittingly  set  powerful  machinery 
in  motion.  The  repressed,  timid,  apologetic 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  91 

being,  once  awakened  and  encouraged  to  self- 
assertion,  flattered  and  strengthened  in  her 
opinions,  was  taking  unconscionable  leaps 
along  the  path  of  personal  liberty. 

She  was  perfectly  aware  that  she  was  doing 
something  extraordinary  and  reprehensible. 
"  Some  day  you  will  repent  of  this  sorely," 
protested  the  stifled  voice  of  conscience  from 
the  hidden  recesses  of  her  nature,  where  she  had 
relentlessly  thrust  it.  "  Let  that  day  take  care 
of  itself,"  replied  her  new-born  recklessness. 
Other  boats  glided  past  them.  Other  people 
were  enjoying  themselves,  she  thought,  accus- 
toming herself  to  her  wickedness.  The  stars 
came  out  and  the  town  lights.  There  was  mu- 
sic from  gardens  and  rowboats  and  sailboats. 
The  lake  seemed  vast  and  dark,  yet  furrowed 
under  the  stars  by  happy  little  skiffs  full  of 
melody  and  laughter.  "  I  am  wicked,  you  are 
wicked,  they  are  wicked,"  reflected  Miss  Aurelia, 
not  with  poignant  self-reproach,  but  merely  in 
a  matter-of-course  way,  admitting  the  fact  as  she 
leaned  back  comfortably  against  the  cushions. 

Meanwhile  handsome  Fritz  Binder  had  not 
spoken.  He  was  content  with  the  silent  elo- 
quence of  his  costume,  his  attitudes,  and  his 
personality.  He  had  rowed  too  many  years  on 


92  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

the  Lake  of  Constance  not  to  know  something 
of  the  feminine  heart.  Princesses  and  peasants, 
widows,  spinsters,  and  school  -  girls  had  fallen 
victims  to  his  charms.  Why,  indeed,  should 
he  seek  to  hasten  the  inevitable  development 
of  things  ? 

Lazily  lying  back  on  his  oars,  at  length  he 
said,  in  a  gentle,  musical  voice, 

"  The  gracious  friiulein  has  not  been  here 
long?" 

"  Three  weeks." 

"  Ah,  I  forget,"  he  returned,  with  graceful 
nonchalance.  "  I  myself  have  been  absent. 
The  Prince  Botowski  positively  insisted  upon 
my  accompanying  him  on  an  extended  tour 
round  the  lake.  I  could  not  refuse,  although  it 
was  rather  a  bore.  He  would  not  take  no  for 
an  answer,  and  we  are  like  brothers,  the  prince 
and  I.  Otherwise  I  should  at  once  have  re- 
marked the  gracious  fraulein.  Anything  dis- 
tinguished and  elegant  among  the  summer 
guests  I  always  remark.  I  have  a  great  deal  of 
experience." 

Miss  Aurelia  curled  herself  still  closer 
against  the  cushions,  and  felt  singularly  com- 
fortable and  happy.  The  stars  grew  brighter. 
She  glanced  over  her  shoulder  at  the  city.  It 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  03 

was  a  low,  irregular  mass  far  behind  them,  a 
row  of  lights  marking  the  shore. 

They  passed  a  villa,  dark  except  for  a  dim 
light  in  an  upper  room. 

"  That  is  the  abode  of  a  monster,"  said  Fritz 
Binder. 

"  Oh  !"  exclaimed  Miss  Aurelia,  straining  her 
eyes  to  see  it. 

"A  monster,"  he  repeated,  emphatically. 
"  A  man  who  hates  women  and  flowers  is  noth- 
ing less.  He  employs  only  men  servants.  He 
lias  had  all  the  roses  in  his  garden  pulled  up  by 
the  roots,  and  flung  over  the  wall.  I  would 
not  allow  him  to  put  his  foot  in  my  boat  for 
love  or  money.  Money,  he's  got  enough  of. 
But  love,  he  knows  nothing  about.  Not  he, 
the  wretch !" 

"You  speak  with  feeling,"  stammered  Miss 
Aurelia. 

"I  do,"  returned  the  young  man,  in  a  still 
more  impassioned  tone.  "  A  man  who  despises 
roses  and  flings  women  over  his  •wall." 

Miss  Aurelia  laughed. 

He  knew  that  she  would  laugh.  He  paused, 
indeed,  to  give  her  the  opportunity. 

The  romantic  boatman  laughed  too — apolo- 
getically. 


94  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

"I  beg  pardon,"  be  said.  "Bat  how  can  a 
man  choose  his  words  when  he  is  boiling  witli 
indignation — and  I,  who  love  flowers  and  adore 
women !" 

Miss  Aurelia  hardly  knew  what  to  reply  or 
whether  to  reply  at  all.  She  was  fairly  blush- 
ing in  the  darkness,  and  felt  that  this  conver- 
sation was  becoming  extremely  intimate.  But 
what  an  extraordinary  young  man !  What  re- 
finement, what  depth  of  sentiment. 

"There,"  he  remarked,  iu  a  less  amorous 
tone,  as  they  passed  another  villa,  "lives  Count 
Eyglas  with  his  three  beautiful  daughters.  The 
youngest,  Countess  Olga,  is  the  image  of  your- 
self. A  lovely  creature  of  twenty-two.  When 
the  gracious  fraulein  came  along  towards  the 
steps,  I  thought  she  was  Countess  Olga." 

Whatever  Miss  Aurelia  ought  to  have  felt  at 
this  moment,  the  truth  is  that  she  was  in  no  re- 
spect offended  at  being  likened  to  a  beautiful 
young  countess  of  twenty-two. 

"  She  goes  out  rowing  with  you?"  she  asked, 
her  voice  somewhat  excited  and  embarrassed. 

"  She  ?"  laughed  Binder, "  of  course.  She  and 
all  fair  ladies,  far  and  near.  Ah,  gracious  frau- 
lein, women  see  that  I  adore  them,  that  I  am 
their  slave.  My  heart  is  tender  to  a  painful,  to 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  95 

an  extraordinary  degree.  But  what  can  I  do? 
It  is  my  nature.  It  is  my  destiny.  I  suffer, 
but  I  do  not  complain." 

"Ah!"  murmured  Miss  Aurelia. 

"  It  is  true,"  he  sighed,  rowing  now  with 
the  least  possible  effort,  his  voice  tender  and 
melodious,  "and  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  I 
am  always  in  love.  If  I  were  not  in  love  I 
should  die.  I  am  in  love  now,  deeply,  desper- 
ately, and  ah,  how  respectfully !" 

What  could  he  mean?  Miss  Aurelia  shivered 
with  excitement. 

"  I  am  only  a  poor  boatman,"  he  remarked, 
sadly.  "  I  know  my  position  but  too  well." 

"  Oh,"  said  Miss  Aurelia,  touched  and  dis- 
tressed, "as  to  that,  I  am  sure  a  boatman  can  be 
very  nice  indeed,  and  you  know  in  America  we 
believe  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  counts 
and  kings — I  mean  to  say — " 

"  Some  weeks  ago,"  interrupted  Fritz  Bin- 
der, in  a  mournful  manner,  "  there  was  a 
teacher  here  from  a  school  on  the  Rhine,  with 
nine  young  ladies.  I  rowed  them  about  all 
day.  When  they  left  there  were  tears  in  their 
eyes.  They  were  mostly  from  the  nobility. 
They  gave  me  their  photographs.  And  one  of 
them  sent  me  this  anchor  [pointing  to  one  of 


96  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

the  large  ornaments  dangling  from  his  heavy 
silver  watchchain].  I  have  sixty-three  anchors, 
all  given  me  by  ladies;  but  what  of  that","  he 
exclaimed,  vehemently,  "if  one  was  born  for 
better  things?" 

Miss  Aurelia  felt  the  deepest  sympathy,  but 
hardly  dared  to  intrude  upon  his  private  griefs 
with  the  questions  that  trembled  upon  her  lips. 

"  Enough  !"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  tragic  gest- 
ure ;  "  it  is  the  decree  of  fate." 

Presently  he  began  to  hum  a  Strauss  waltz 
under  his  breath. 

"  He  is  concealing  his  sufferings  beneath  a 
semblance  of  gayety,"  thought  Miss  Aurelia, 
much  agitated.  "  Poor,  brave,  unhappy  young 
man  !  how  I  wish  I  could  help  him  !  If  I 
should  talk  with  Uncle  John  about  him  !  If  I 
could  but  help  him  find  his  sphere." 

Binder's  waltz  merged  into  a  whistle,  and  he 
rowed  on  a  few  strokes  with  commendable 
cheerfulness  for  so  great  a  sufferer. 

Again  his  voice  broke  the  silence  and  his 
oars  grew  languid. 

"  In  my  letters  I  express  myself.     A  letter  I 

once   wrote  always   brings  tears   to   my  eyes. 

''Dearest   Amalie'  —  her  name  was  Amalie  — 

*  though  parted  by  cruel  fate,  you  are  the  bright 


TONY,  THE   MAID.  97 

star  that  cheers  my  lone  and  barren  path,  and 
oh,  Arnalie,  where'er  your  foot  may  stray,  re- 
member one  true  heart  beats  for  you  still,  and 
is  until  death  your  faithful  and  ever  desolate 
Fritz  Binder.' " 

"  Did  you  write  that  ?  That  sounds  beautiful." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  wrote  it,"  he  answered,  with  con- 
siderable pride.  There  are  more  of  them.  I 
know  them  all  by  heart.  "  There  was  Sophie's. 
Perhaps  you  would  like  Sophie's  better  than 
Amalie's.  '  Oh,  Sophie,  you  are  the  sunshine 
that  warms  my  lone  and  barren  path,  and 
though  cruel  fate  parts  our  fond  hearts,  remem- 
ber, so  long  as  my  life  lasts,  every  breath  I 
draw  and  every  thought  I  think  will  be  for  you 
alone,  my  lost,  but  ever  dear,  Sophie,  with  true 
love  from  one  who  is  faithful  unto  death,  Fritz 
Binder.'  " 

"  But  did  you  love  them  both  ?"  asked  Miss 
Aurelia,  timid  and  greatly  confused.  "  Both 
Amalie  and  Sophie  ?" 

"Them  and  more,"  rejoined  Fritz  Binder. 
"  I  never  count,  I  always  love.  I  am  all  love. 
I  love  now — madly,  hopelessly,  passionately." 

"  Oh,  dear  me !     I  am  afraid  it's  getting  late. 
Perhaps,  you'd  better  row  towards  the  hotel," 
Miss  Aurelia  ejaculated  tremulously. 
7 


98  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

No,  she  was  not  mistaken.  Her  boatman 
drew  a  long  and  profound  sigh.  She,  too,  was 
agitated,  but  blissful. 

"  Shall  I  not  repeat  some  poetry  for  you  ?"  he 
asked,  softly.  "  The  young  ladies  from  the 
school  on  the  Rhine,  mostly  from  the  nobility, 
wept  over  my  poetry." 

"  Oh,  do,"  she  murmured. 

lie  began.  The  more  he  recited  the  less  he 
rowed,  in  order  not  to  break  the  effect  of  the 
metre,  she  concluded.  It  was  the  longest  poem 
she  had  ever  heard,  and  she  could  not  suffi- 
ciently admire  his  memory. 

The  stanzas  rolled  forth  from  his  lips  with 
the  regularity  of  machine-work.  Miss  Aurelia 
by  no  means  understood  it  all,  but  the  theme 
seemed  to  be  very  beautiful  and  touching. 
There  were  frequent  allusions  to  forget-me-nots 
and  weeping  willows,  and  lovers  shedding  tears 
over  each  other's  graves.  Fritz  Binder's  mag- 
netic cadences  and  the  gathering  darkness  and 
the  gentle  rocking  of  the  boat  were  very  sooth- 
ing. Like  a  baby  in  a  cradle,  Miss  Aurelia  fell 
asleep. 

Lower,  with  the  same  lulling  monotony, 
the  boatman's  voice  continued,  while  his  arms 
were  all  but  motionless.  It  was  a  most  remark- 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  99 

able  poem.  Various  stanzas  seemed  to  recur 
with  curious  frequency,  and,  after  a  while,  the 
weeping  willows  and  forget-me-nots  and  lovers' 
tears  were  mingled  in  inextricable  confusion. 

He  must  have  repeated  something  like  a  hun- 
dred and  seventeen  stanzas,  when  he  lighted  a 
match  and  looked  at  his  watch,  his  voice  going 
on  independently. 

"  Urn  !  so  late !"  he  muttered,  then  yawned, 
and  caused  the  boat  to  make  a  violent  lurch. 

Miss  Aurelia  started. 

"That  is  a  beautiful  poem,"  she  said,  guiltily. 

"It  brings  tears  to  every  eye — to  mine — as 
often  as  I  repeat  it,"  answered  the  soulful  boat- 
man. 

She  became  suddenly  aware  that  there  was 
not  another  boat  visible  or  audible. 

"  I  really  must  go  in,"  she  said,  alarmed. 

"  It  is  not  so  very  late,"  he  assured  her.  "  I 
have  often  been  out  later  with  ladies."  But  he 
began  to  row  fast  towards  the  hotel.  They 
were,  indeed,  not  far  away,  for  Binder  had  not 
over-exerted  his  muscles,  but  had  limited  his 
performances  to  a  sheltered  cove  a  few  rods 
down  the  shore. 

Presently  the  boat  ran  alongside  the  marble 
steps,  where  a  bright  gas-lamp  was  burning.  He 


100  TONY,  TUB  MAID. 

helped  her  out  with  lingering  tenderness.  Look- 
ing up  at  the  picturesque,  handsome  youth,  she 
felt  embarrassed  and  tremulous.  How  could 
she  offer  such  a  being  money. 

"  Seven  marks,  if  you  please,"  he  said,  in  a 
business-like  tone.  "After  nine  o'clock  it's 
night-tariff." 

She  slipped  a  ten-mark  gold  piece  into  his 
hand. 

"  I  have  no  change,"  he  observed,  quickly. 

"Never  mind," she  murmured. 

A  radiant  smile  played  over  the  boatman's 
fine  features. 

"  And  at  what  time  to-morrow  shall  I  have 
the  honor?" 

"  Ah,  to-morrow,"  she  returned,  sadly.  "  To- 
morrow I  am  going  away." 

"  It  cannot  be  !"  exclaimed  Binder. 

"  I'm  afraid  so." 

He  made  a  desperate  and  dangerous  move- 
ment. 

"Unsay  those  cruel  words,  or  I  will  throw 
myself  into  the  lake !" 

"  Oh,  please  don't  do  anything  rash,"  she 
begged. 

"  Then  promise  me  this  shall  not  be  farewell. 
I  might  have  known,"  he  declared,  gloomily, 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  101 

plunging  his  hand  through  his  hair.  "  I  am  only 
a  poor  boatman.  But" — throwing  up  his  hand- 
some head,  gazing  at  the  stars,  and  pounding 
his  chest  vigorously — "am  I  to  blame  that  I 
have  something  here  that  beats?"  he  demanded, 
fiercely. 

"No,  you  are  not.  Certainly  not,"  replied 
Miss  Aurelia,  with  emotion. 

"  Then  stay,"  he  implored. 

"  Why  should  I  not,  after  all  ?  What  harm 
would  there  be?  He  is  very,  very  romantic, 
but  could  anybody  be  more  respectful?  It 
would  seem  almost  cruel  to  refuse."  The  quiet 
stars  looked  down  upon  the  curious  pair.  The 
little  waves  plashed  against  the  stone  steps. 

"  Stay,  oh,  stay !"  pleaded  the  sad  and  gentle 
voice.  Again  he  leaned  against  the  balustrade 
in  his  picturesqueness.  The  silver  anchors 
shone  resplendent  in  the  gaslight.  He  held  his 
cap  in  his  hand. 

"Well, I  will;  there !"  ejaculated  Miss  Aure- 
lia, laying  her  conscience  prostrate. 

Binder  straightened  himself. 

"  What  time  shall  I  come  ?"  he  said,  quickly. 

"  At  four." 

"Very  well,"  he  answered,  cheerfully.  "  Good- 
night, gracious  friiulein.  Sleep  well." 


102  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

"  Good-night,"  turning  away. 

"  The  main  garden-gate  will  be  locked  at  this 
hour,"  he  called  after  her.  "In  such  cases 
they've  always  got  in  through  the  small  gate  at 
the  left." 

Such  cases !  What  cases  ?  They !  Who  ? 
She  experienced  a  vague  discomfort.  Was  this 
exquisite,  starlight,  unique  episode  only  one  of 
many  boating  tete-d-tetes  f 

But  she  was  too  excited  to  consider  this  point 
long,  and  hurried  towards  the  hotel  garden.  As 
she  opened  the  convenient  little  gate  she  paused, 
her  heart  fluttering  wildly,  and  listened  to  the 
regular  sweep  of  Binder's  oars.  He  was  whist- 
ling an  opera  air  with  scrupulous  care  in  the  ex- 
ecution of  the  trills. 

"Heroic  young  man !"  she  murmured.  "  What 
marvellous  self-control !" 

The  great  hotel  with  its  blaze  of  lights  now 
loomed  up  before  her,  like  a  huge  monument  to 
conventionality,  and  reminded  her  of  the  full 
meaning  of  her  social  and  moral  transgression, 
yet  nothing  could  quite  destroy  her  exaltation  of 
spirits.  She  approached  the  house  slowly,  dread- 
ing the  moment  of  entrance.  Suddenly,  from  a 
by-path,  a  little  figure  darted  towards  her.  She 
saw  that  it  was  Tony,  but  there  was  scarcely  time 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  103 

to  speak  before  the  doors  opened  and  they  were 
ushered  obsequiously  into  the  hotel  corridor.  The 
light  dazzled  Miss  Aurelia's  eyes.  Surely  this  was 
another  world  from  that  tender,  dusky,  gliding 
realm  she  had  just  left.  Tony,  with  an  impor- 
tant air,  as  if  she  had  been  several  hours  on 
special  escort-duty,  a  pile  of  wraps  on  her  arm, 
solemnly  marched  behind  her  pale  and  dazed 
mistress.  Only  once  did  either  speak,  when 
Tony,  as  she  passed  three  or  four  staring  waiters, 
let  fall,  with  admirable  distinctness,  a  remark 
about  the  rare  beauty  of  Count  Eyglas's  rose- 
garden.  Miss  Aurelia  had  no  idea  what  she 
meant,  and  scarcely  heard,  but  Tony  knew,  and 
the  waiters  heard,  and  with  the  positive  ac- 
curacy which  characterizes  most  of  our  remarks 
about  our  neighbors,  the  whole  hotel  knew  the 
next  day  that  Miss  Vanderpool  had  passed  Sun- 
day evening  in  Count  Eyglas's  villa. 

Once  within  the  shelter  of  her  own  room 
Miss  Aurelia  breathed  more  freely,  but  she 
longed  for  solitude,  and  avoided  meeting  Tony's 
conspicuously  cheerful  and  unconscious  glance. 
Turning  away  quietly,  she  said  : 

"  I  do  not  need  you  to-night,  Tony." 

"  Yery  good,"  assented  the  smiling  little  maid. 

"And  Tony" — Miss  Aurelia's  pale  cheeks 


104  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

flashed — "  I  have  decided — I  have  concluded — 
I  have  made  up  my  mind — to  remain  a  little 
longer.  You  may  unpack,  Tony." 

"  Very  good,"  returned  the  cheerful  voice. 

"Not  to-night,  of  course,"  continued  Miss 
Aurelia,  stammering,  as  she  looked  at  the  two 
neatly  and  fully  packed  open  trunks,  "  but  to- 
morrow morning." 

"  Very  good,  gracious  fraulein." 

Presently  Miss  Aurelia  was  left  alone  with 
her  delicious  reveries. 

Tony,  in  her  little  room  across  the  corridor, 
sat  down  with  an  air  of  absolute  conviction, 
nodding  gravely. 

"  It's  a  man  !"  she  said. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

FKITZ    BINDER   TEACHES  THE   INFATUATED   MISS 

AURELIA  TO  ROW,  WHILE  TONY  NOURISHES 

SCHEMES  OF  VENGEANCE. 

"A  MAN"  —reflected  Tony;  "that  changes 
everything,  that  turns  everything  topsy-turvy. 
"Well,  it's  a  lesson  to  me.  One  ought  alwaj's  to 
be  attentive  even  when  one's  packing  for  dear 
life.  She  was  excited.  She  was  pale  as  a  ghost. 
Then  she  blushed.  '  Tony,'  she  said,  quite  brisk 
and  unlike  herself — 'Tony,  you  may  unpack.' 
Her  clothes  and  hair  were  damp.  She's  been  on 
the  lake  with  a  man.  The  dear,  good,  innocent 
lady !" 

The  next  day  Miss  Aurelia  remained  secluded 
in  her  room. 

Mrs.  Kuy-Bric  sent  her  dear  love,  and  they 
all  had  missed  their  sweet  friend  so  very  much, 
and  could  she  be  ill  ? 

Mrs.  High-Dndgeon  invited  her  to  four  o'clock 
tea,  "  quite  among  ourselves." 


106  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

Miss  Aurelia  returned  best  thanks  to  both 
ladies.  She  was  not  ill,  but  had  a  previous  en- 
gagement. 

She  was  astonished  at  her  own  fluency  and 
boldness. 

All  day  she  waited  nervously,  fearing  some- 
thing would  intervene  to  prevent  her  from 
realizing  her  dear  hope.  She  was  restless;  could 
neither  sew  nor  read  ;  changed  her  dress  repeat- 
edly, and  spent  much  time  before  her  mirror 
when  Tony  was  not  there.  A  woman  of  a  cer- 
tain age,  whom  a  handsome  being  of  the  other 
sex  has  likened  to  a  lovely  young  countess  of 
twenty-two,  can  hardly  be  expected  to  neglect 
her  toilet.  Miss  Aurelia's  costume  to-day  ex- 
pressed fresh  juvenility — a  bright  knot  of  rib- 
bons at  the  throat,  some  blush  roses  on  her  hat 
— a  general  air  of  bloom  and  dewiness.  Tony 
might  have  been  blind  for  all  that  she  seemed 
to  observe  of  these  preparations. 

But  when,  towards  four,  Miss  Aurelia  stole 
softly  out  of  her  room,  there  stood  Tony,  con- 
spicuously on  duty,  her  hat  on  her  head,  on  her 
arm  wraps,  on  her  face  the  repose  of  an  unsus- 
picious spirit. 

"  But  I  don't  heed  you,"  stammered  the  lady, 
dismayed. 


TONY,  THE   MAID.  107 

"  Oh,  I  can  come  perfectly,  the  sewing  is  so 
well  along!"  responded  Tony. 

Miss  Aurelia  stalked  on  moodily.  What  ex- 
cuse could  she  give  ?  Single  ladies  at  the  hotel, 
when  walking  and  boating,  were  usually  accom- 
panied by  their  maids,  if  they  had  any.  "  Oh, 
dear,  I  wish  I  didn't  have  any  maid !"  she 
thought,  all  her  clinging  fondness  for  Tony  in 
thankless  abeyance. 

A  queer,  vivid  little  smile  flashed  across 
Tony's  face,  and  left  it  demure  as  before. 

"The  gracious  fraulein  is  going  for  a  walk  in 
the  woods,  I  presume  ?" 

"No,  I  am  not,"  said  Miss  Aurelia,  curtly. 

Down  through  the  winding  garden  paths  they 
passed,  and  along  the  shore  road  towards  the 
marble  steps,  where  the  gallant  Binder,  in  his 
unapproachable  attitude,  already  stood.  How 
Miss  Aurelia's  heart  beat !  With  a  rush  of  pride 
she  could  not  refrain  from  looking  to  see  what 
effect  her  hero  was  producing  upon  Tony.  But 
that  small  person,  having  given  the  boatman 
one  indifferent  glance,  was  gazing  searchingly 
up  and  down  the  shore,  as  if  expecting  the  ap- 
proach of  some  other  individual.  Seeing  no 
one,  extreme  astonishment,  for  an  unguarded  in- 
stant, was  revealed  upon  her  quiet  features. 


108  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

Miss  Aurelia  was  tremulously  uncertain 
whether  Binder  did  or  did  not  squeeze  her 
hand.  But  no,  he  could  have  done  nothing  so 
familiar.  The  fancied  squeeze  must  have  been 
produced  by  the  legitimate  necessity  of  steady- 
ing her  as  she  stepped  into  the  boat. 

Tony  who,  unseen,  had  crossed  herself,  and 
commended  her  perishable  body  and  immortal 
soul  to  all  her  saints,  brusquely  declined  his  as- 
sistance, and  with  a  certain  stoniness  of  aspect 
followed  her  mistress.  Miss  Aurelia  thought 
she  had  never  seen  her  look  so  unpleasant.  "  I 
never  before  realized  how  long  and  pinched  her 
nose  is,"  she  reflected. 

Tony's  nose  did  look  pinched,  and  her  com- 
plexion became  sallow,  assuming  various  shades 
of  green  and  yellow,  with  a  suspicious  whiteness 
about  the  mouth.  She  hated  and  feared  a  small 
boat  as  only  an  inland-bred  German  girl,  of 
what  may  be  denominated  the  upper-lower  class, 
knows  how  to  hate  everything  appertaining  to 
that  treacherous  and  hideous  element,  water. 
But  not  even  the  miserable  feeling  at  the  pit  of 
her  stomach  could  induce  her  to  desert  Miss 
Aurelia  in  this  extremity.  Tightly  clutching 
the  boat,  she  fastened  her  eyes  steadily  upon 
Fritz  Binder's  embroidered  blue  sailor-blouse, 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  109 

far  too  much  cut  down  at  the  throat  for  her 
ideas  of  propriety,  and  with  more  loyalty  than 
logic,  mentally  ejaculated  : 

"And  if  I  drown,  I'll  stay  in  this  boat!" 
Binder,  putting  off  from  the  landing,  rowed 
well.  People  were  standing  there,  admiring  him 
as  a  model  of  manly  grace  and  strength,  and  he 
was  willing  to  grant  them  this  joy.  But  no 
sooner  had  he  passed  the  bridges  leading  to  the 
bathing-houses,  and  the  piers  and  seats  where 
idlers  were  lounging  and  fishing  and  reading, 
than  he  palpably  eased  up,  and  presently  he 
struck  into  his  favorite  little  cove,  where  the  cur- 
rent pulled  less  forcibly,  and  where  the  row  of 
villas  along  the  shore  presented  pleasing  topics 
of  conversation. 

Miss  Aurelia  watched  him  greedily.  Yes,  in 
the  strong  sunlight  he  was  as  beautiful  as  yester- 
day in  the  gloaming.  There  was  no  doubt  what- 
ever about  his  personal  appearance.  His  nut- 
brown  face  was  faultlessly  oval,  his  mustache 
drooped  with  silky  chestnut  ends,  his  bold  blue 
eyes  roamed  far  and  wide  with  a  look  before 
which  her  shy  gaze  sank.  "  He  is  a  perfect  pict- 
ure," she  thought.  "After  all,  it  is  well  that  Tony 
came ;  for  if  he  should  be  tender  and  impassioned 
now,  I  really  don't  know  what  I  should  do!" 


110  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

Tony,  meanwhile,  had  shut  her  eyes  tight. 
During  the  starting  of  the  boat,  and  its  passage 
with  what  she  considered  appalling  rapidity 
through  fierce  surges — the  lake,  in  point  of  fact, 
was  like  glass — she  suffered  torments  in  rigid 
silence.  Perceiving  a  decided  slackening  of  the 
motion,  she  forced  herself  to  open  her  eyes. 

"  Impertinent  jackanapes,  what  a  stare  he's 
got !"  was  her  immediate  reflection. 

"  This  is  the  house  of  a  monster,"  began 
Binder's  melodious  voice. 

Miss  Aurelia  smiled  in  anticipation  of  the 
chivalrous  sentiments  about  to  follow.  She  had 
heard  them  the  day  before,  it  is  true,  but  in  a 
certain  palpitating  frame  of  mind  tender  repeti- 
tions do  not  weary  us. 

The  women  and  the  roses  were  advanta- 
geously produced,  likewise  Binder's  excessive 
tender-heartedness. 

The  boat  was  scarcely  moving.  Little  Tony, 
clutching  it  tightly,  hating  it  when  it  stirred, 
physically  very  uncomfortable,  resolved  to  do 
her  duty  at  any  cost.  Fritz  Binder's  like  she 
had  never  seen.  Quiet,  watchful,  her  pale  face 
as  expressionless  as  she  could  render  it,  she 
made  her  observations. 

She  in  turn  puzzled  him,  but  not  long.     For 


TONY,  THE   MAID.  Ill 

he  speedily  ascribed  her  evident  want  of  appro- 
bation to  her  dread  of  the  water.  "  She'll  get 
over  that,  and  then  she'll  be  like  all  the  rest  of 
them,"  he  concluded,  easily.  "  Nice,  neat  little 
thing ;  heaps  more  fun  in  her  than  in  the  long 
old  one." 

"  She's  afraid,"  he  said  aloud,  with  a  good- 
humored  laugh. 

"  She  is  unaccustomed  to  the  water,"  Miss 
Aurelia  began,  eagerly.  "  But  I — I  adore  it. 
Water,  water!  what  is  so  beautiful  as  water? 
There's  nothing  so  heavenly  on  earth  as  wa- 
ter!" 

"  Quite  like  Countess  Olga,  she,  too,  adores 
water.  'Fritz,'  she  often  says — she  calls  me 
Fritz  so  sweetly — 'Fritz,  there's  nothing  in  the 
world  like  water !' ': 

A  jealous  pang  shot  through  Miss  Aurelia's 
heart  at  the  thought  of  another  woman  sweetly 
calling  him  Fritz. 

"  Beautiful  creature,  the  Countess  Olga,"  he 
continued,  "  quite  in  the  style  of  the  gracious 
franlein.  When  I  saw  that  graceful  figure 
coming  towards  the  steps,  says  I  to  myself, 
'  That's  Countess  Olga.'  " 

Miss  Aurelia  grew  rosy  with  delight. 

Antoninia  Zschorcher  pricked  up  her  ears. 


112  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

"Being  obliged  to  go  off  with  Botowski — a  very 
good  fellow  the  prince  is,  but  would  not  take  no 
for  an  answer —  '  Binder,'  said  he,  '  my  dear 
Binder,  I  depend  upon  you.' " 

"  Ho,  ho,  that's  the  kind  of  a  man  you  are  !" 
decided  Tony. 

"And,  off  with  him,  I  hadn't  observed  the 
new  arrivals.  Anything  distinguished  and  ele- 
gant I  always  observe,"  with  a  tremendous  stare 
at  his  happy  victim. 

His  pleasant  voice  and  smiling,  comely  face 
made  sad  havoc  with  her  heart.  He  would  row 
a  couple  of  languid  strokes,  then  rest  gener- 
ously, and  gently  speak.  All  that  he  said  sound- 
ed this  evening  even  more  charming  than  the 
first  time. 

Presently  Tony  nerved  herself  to  a  species  of 
heroism. 

"  Why  do  we  always  remain  opposite  the 
same  house  ?"  she  demanded,  although  her 
misery  was  far  less  acute  when  the  boat  was 
quiescent. 

"  That's  because  you  are  not  used  to  the 
water,"  he  said,  condescendingly.  "  It  only 
seems  so."  Nevertheless  he  plied  his  oars 
with  more  vigor. 

"  It's  awful,"  shuddered  Tony,  secretly.  "  But 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  113 

if  the  gracious  fraulein  has  come  out  for  a  row, 
she  ought  to  have  her  money's  worth.  If  stay- 
ing on  one  spot  is  all  that's  required,  she  might 
as  well  sit  in  a  boat  on  shore." 

He  soon  diminished  his  muscular  action  and 
ushered  in  the  boarding-school  on  the  Rhine, 
and  the  nine  young  ladies— mostly  from  the 
nobility — who  had  bedewed  his  boat  with  their 
tears.  Fixing  his  eyes  upon  Miss  Aurelia,  he 
repeated,  nearly  verbatim,  his  erotic  peroration 
of  the  previous  evening.  She  wondered,  yet 
was  subtly  flattered,  that  Tony's  presence  did 
not  deter  him.  On  the  contrary,  he  glanced 
easily  from  one  to  the  other  as  he  declared  him- 
self desperately  in  love  at  the  moment,  and  his 
conviction  that  he  should  die  if  he  were  not  al- 
ways in  that  sensitive  condition. 

Tony  gave  a  low  groan. 

"  Do  you  feel  ill  ?"  Miss  Aurelia  asked,  kindly. 
Finding  Tony  no  impediment,  she  had  recovered 
from  her  nervous  irritability. 

"  Thanks,"  said  Tony,  "  I  am  much  better. 
I  am  beginning  to  enjoy  It."  She  certainly 
looked  better.  On  her  cheeks  was  a  slight 
flush  such  as  might  be  produced  by  the  sun 
or  wind,  or  indignation,  and  her  lips  were  com- 
pressed in  a  flexible  mocking  line. 
8 


114  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

Binder  now  alluded  to  mysterious  hidden 
griefs.  There  seemed  to  be  a  certain  irrele- 
vance in  his  remarks.  Miss  Aurelia's  imagina- 
tion lavishly  filled  in  the  gaps. 

"Dearest  Amalie,"  he  began,  "  though  parted 
by  cruel  fate,  you  are  the  one  bright  star  that 
cheers  my  lone  and  barren  path ;  and  oh,  Amalie, 
remember  wherever  your  foot  may  stray,  one 
true  heart — " 

Tony  at  this  point  was  seized  with  a  fit  of 
coughing  so  loud  and  convulsive  that  it  would 
have  damaged  the  effect  of  the  most  eloquent 
love-letter  ever  written  ;  her  face  was  concealed 
in  her  handkerchief,  above  which  her  very 
temples  were  crimson  with  mantling  color. 
Miss  Aurelia  was  sorry  for  her,  but  thought  it 
a  pity  anything  so  touching  as  Binder's  recita- 
tion should  be  interrupted. 

" — beats  for  you  still"  he  went  on,imperturb- 
ably,  as  soon  as  her  paroxysm  had  subsided,  "  and 
is  until  death  your  faithful  and  ever  desolate 
Fritz  Binder." 

Tony  continued  to  cough  in  a  stifled  manner 
behind  her  handkerchief. 

"  And  Sophie,"  suggested  Miss  Aurelia  sym- 
pathetically, longing  to  comfort  him  for  all  his 
lost  loves.  • 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  115 

Sophie's  missive  followed. 

Suddenly  he  sprang  up  like  a  rampant  lion. 

"  Tell  me  you  are  going  to  stay,  that  for  a 
little  while  you  will  gladden  my  lone  and  barren 
path,  or  I  jump!" 

How  ardent,  how  nobly  reckless,  he  looked! 
Before  Miss  Aurelia,  in  her  agitation,  could  find 
words  to  soothe  him,  a  voice  said,  dryly, 

"Well,  you  can  swim,  can't  you?" 

Binder  sat  down  quickly. 

"  Tony  !"  exclaimed  her  mistress,  in  shocked 
reproof. 

Binder  was,  however,  not  a  whit  disconcerted. 

"  Swim  ?"  he  replied,  with  his  bright,  young, 
boastful  smile,  "I'm  the  best  swimmer  on  the 
Lake  of  Constance." 

Miss  Anrelia  admired  his  rapid  transitions. 

"  If  you  would  be  so  kind  as  to  repeat  that 
beautiful  poem,"  she  pleaded,  "  that  moved  all 
those  young  ladies  to  tears,  and  I  am  sure  it 
would  have  made  me  cry  too,"  she  added,  zeal- 
ously, "except  that  without  the  dictionary  at 
hand  the  German  construction  is  so  difficult." 

Binder  began  sonorously. 

The  poem  was  long,  but  by  no  means  as  long 
as  it  had  been  the  night  before.  Tony  nipped 
its  growth  in  the  bud. 


116  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

"  You've  already  said  that  about  the  willows," 
she  interrupted,  or  caught  him  up  sharply  with  : 

"That's  the  fifth  time  Cunigunde  has  put 
forget-me-nots  in  her  hair." 

"Yes,  she  liked  them,"  Binder  responded, 
placidly. 

"She's  a  sharp  little  thing.  She  is  the  kind 
I  like.  After  fooling  about  on  the  lake  all  day, 
with  such  as  the  long  one,  it  wouldn't  be  bad 
to  come  home  to  a  neat,  quick-witted  little 
woman  like  her." 

He  looked  long  and  smilingly  at  her. 

She  looked  long  and  unsmilingly  at  him,  then 
reached  over  compassionately  and  put  an  extra 
wrap  over  Miss  Aurelia's  shoulders. 

"  Thanks,  Tony,"  said  the  lady ;  "  it  is  a  little 
fresh."  It  was  such  a  relief  that  Tony  really 
did  not  interfere. 

"I  suffer,"  announced  Fritz  Binder,  quite  un- 
expectedly. "  I  suffer  incredibly.  I  have  sixty- 
three  anchors,  tokens  of  affection  and  remem- 
brance from  ladies.  But,  alas!  the  decree  of 
fate  is  immutable." 

"  You  don't  like  to  row  ?"  inquired  Miss 
Aurelia,  with  timid  sympathy. 

He  pulled  off  his  blue  cap  and  plunged  his 
hands  through  his  thick  brown  hair. 


TONY,  THE   MAID.  117 

"  Never  mind,"  he  said,  tragically.  "  A  cold 
world  spurns  a  heart  like  mine.  Am  I  to  blame 
that  it  beats  ?"  frantically  clutching  his  blouse. 

"  Oh,  Tony  !"  murmured  Miss  Aurelia,  ex- 
tending her  hand,  appealingly. 

"  He'll  get  over  it,"  answered  the  maid,  with 
asperity.  "Hadn't  you  better  row  a  little  by 
way  of  variety  ?"  she  demanded,  too  rapidly  and 
with  too  much  dialect  to  be  intelligible  to  her 
mistress. 

"  Anything  in  the  world  to  please  you,"  re- 
turned Binder,  fervently. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  inquired  Miss  Aurelia,  ill  at  ease. 

"He  is  going  to  row  now,"  Tony  said,  her 
voice  odd  and  hard. 

Miss  Aurelia  looked  wonderingly  at  them,  but 
her  attention  was  engrossed  by  her  boatman's 
magnificent  strokes.  "  How  strong  he  is,  how 
masterly !"  she  said  to  herself,  in  triumph. 

"  You  will  stay  ?"  he  begged,  with  an  en- 
amoured glance. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  there  is  no  absolute  neces- 
sity of  my  going  quite  yet,"  she  replied,  at- 
tempting to  be  arch. 

"  What  time  to-morrow?" 

"  At  the  same  time  as  to-day,"  she  murmured, 
with  a  lingering  maidenly  glance. 


118  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

As  she  stepped  out  of  the  boat  she  was  in  no 
doubt  whatever,  on  the  contrary,  knew  that  he 
gave  her  hand  an  undeniable  squeeze.;  but — ah, 
the  fatally  easy  descensus  Averni  ! — already  she 
regarded  this  little  dereliction  from  the  path  of 
etiquette  with  indulgence. 

"  Shall  you  come,  too  ?"  inquired  Binder, 
eagerly,  as  Tony,  avoiding  his  touch,  sprang 
from  the  boat. 

She  deigned  no  answer. 

•Miss  Aurelia,  fumbling  with  embarrassment 
in  her  purse,  again  presented  Fritz  Binder  with 
a  gold  piece  and  required  no  change. 

The  two  women,-  each  absorbed  in  her  own 
thoughts,  walked  up  the  garden  paths. 

Blithe  as  a  canary-bird  sounded  the  boatman's 
whistle  as  he  rowed  away. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

MISS  AURELIA,  TONY,  AND  FRITZ  BINDER  AT  CROSS- 
PURPOSES. 

Miss  AURELIA  sat  in  her  low  chair  by  the  win- 
dow and  looked  smilingly  out  towards  the  lake. 
It  was  too  dark  to  discern  anything  beyond  the 
nearest  trees  of  the  garden,  but  the  picture  in 
her  memory  was  charmingly  vivid.  Even  the 
jaunty  ribbon-ends  floating  from  Fritz  Binder's 
sailor-cap  she  recalled  with  tender  delight. 

The  peculiar  softness  of  her  reveries  was  no 
doubt  due  in  part  to  their  novelty.  A  vernal 
freshness  characterized  her  sentiments.  There 
is  a  prevalent  impression  that  every  unmarried 
woman  has  had  her  love-affair,  her  "opportunity," 
as  maiden  ladies  delicately  call  a  marriage  offer. 
It  being  often  unwise  and  always  dangerous  to  op- 
pose prevalent  impressions,  the  question  at  large 
shall  be  here  discreetly  avoided  ;  and  merely  in 
the  individual  case  of  Miss  Aurelia,  and  as  a 
necessary  fact  in  the  study  of  her  psychological 


120  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

problems,  will  it  be  stated  that  up  to  this  epoch 
she  had  never  had  any  love-affair  or  "opportu- 
nity "  whatsoever.  Her  sober  wishes  had  never 
strayed  farther  than  an  eminently  Platonic  at- 
tachment to  a  gentleman  who  had  lectured  two 
winters  in  her  native  town,  and,  like  all  the  la- 
dies of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Brown's  parish,  she  was 
wont  to  wreathe  his  sensible  and  slightly  bald 
head  with  a  more  or  less  sentimental  halo.  But 
nearer  to  the  dangerous  ground  upon  which, 
with  a  certain  wistful  curiosity,  she  had  seen  her 
friends  marching  off  in  couples  her  timid  foot 
had  never  trod;  and  any  attention  more  com- 
promising than  the  offer  of  an  umbrella,  or  a 
seat  in  a  horse-car,  or  the  opening  of  a  door,  she 
could  attribute  to  no  man  living. 

She  had,  indeed,  gone  so  far  as  to  think  it 
must  be  very  pleasant  to  be  engaged  to  be  mar- 
ried, though  this,  of  course,  was  not  a  thing  one 
could  very  well  say.  She  was  apt  to  skip  the 
descriptions  and  general  conversations  in  novels 
that  she  might  come  quicker  to  the  love  pas- 
sages— which  in  most  romances  begin  to  occur 
somewhere  near  the  278th  page — and  these  she 
usually  read  three  times  at  the  first  sitting. 
Not  that  she  liked  silly  books.  On  the  con- 
trary, her  reading  was  excellently  well  chosen, 


TONY,  THE   MAID.  121 

according  to  the  monthly  list  suggested  in  a  lit- 
erary journal  to  which  she  was  a  subscriber. 
But  she  did  like,  now  and  then,  a  real  love- 
story.  Of  late  she  had  found  more  analysis 
than  love  in  fiction,  and  consequently  returned 
to  her  less  modern  friends,  with  whom  the  story 
is  more  important  than  philosophy.  Miss  Kav- 
anagh's  "Nathalie"  was  her  favorite  novel, and 
M.  de  Sainville  her  hero. 

It  would  puzzle  most  people  mightily  to  dis- 
cover any  resemblance  between  grave  Monsieur 
de  Sainville  in  his  chateau  and  jolly  Fritz  Bin- 
der in  his  boat.  Miss  Aurelia  found  no  difficul- 
ties in  the  comparison,  in  which  all  advantages 
were,  it  is  needless  to  remark,  conspicuously  on 
the  side  of  Binder.  Pleasantly  occupied  in 
meditating  upon  their  respective  noses  and 
voices,  and  what  she  called  their  souls,  she  was 
greatly  disturbed  by  Tony,  who,  at  this  ill- 
judged  moment,  knocked  and  entered  the 
room. 

Unlike  her  usual  direct  and  self-possessed 
manner,  she  stood  still,  in  evident  hesitation. 

"  Well,  Tony,  everything  is  in  order,  I  be- 
lieve," remarked  the  lady,  eager  to  return  to 
her  absorbing  employment. 

"Gracious  fraulein,"  began   Tony,  rapidly, 


122  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

"  the  packing  and  unpacking  is  nothing  at  all.  A 
lady  has  a  right  to  change  her  mind,  and  it's  my 
duty  and  my  pleasure  to  change  with  her.  But, 
gracious  fraulein,  there's  something  that  I  have 
on  my  conscience  to  say — knowing  my  duty." 

Now,  what  one  has  on  one's  conscience  to  say 
is  rarely  palatable  to  the  other  party,  and  in  this 
case  Miss  Aurelia  could  not  fail  to  suspect  that 
Tony  was  about  to  communicate  something  un- 
pleasant about  Fritz  Binder.  "  No  scandal  shall 
influence  me,"  she  instantly  resolved.  "Poor, 
calumniated  young  man !  Something  tells  me 
that  he  is  truly  noble.  However  misunderstood 
he  may  be,  I  am  his  friend." 

Tony  had  every  intention  of  finding  out  all 
available  facts  of  Fritz  Binder's  career,  and  even 
a  little  calumny  would  not  have  been  unwel- 
come to  her;  but  she  had  had,  as  yet,  no  time 
for  special  detective  service. 

"What  is  it,  Tony?"  said  the  lady,  coldly. 

"  It  is  this,"  returned  the  maid,  deprecatingly ; 
"  and  I  wish  there  were  any  way  to  tell  the  gra- 
cious fraulein,  without  telling  her,  but  there 
isn't.  That  Fritz  Binder — I  don't  say  he's  a 
bad  man ;  I  don't  know  anything  about  him  out 
of  his  boat,  but  in  it  he  makes  money — with  his 
eyelashes.  If  he's  said  all  that  once,  he's  said  it 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  123 

five  hundred  times.  The  love-making  and  his 
lone  path — why,  that's  his  stock  in  trade,  like  a 
carpenter's  tools.  Every  lady  has  a  right  to  her 
little  pleasures — but — there,  I've  said  it !" 

"  Tony,"  rejoined  Miss  Aurelia,  deeply  hurt, 
and  wondering  whether  dignified  silence  or  a 
warm  defence  of  the  aspersed  being  would  be 
the  more  efficacious,  "all  I  have  to  say  is,  I 
am  perfectly  astonished  at  yon,  perfectly.  I 
thought  you  were  such  a  very  nice  girl  1" 

Silent  and  distressed,  Tony  cast  down  her  eyes. 
After  a  pause,  she  began,  with  much  sweetness 
and  modesty :  "  When  I  was  working  in  Mar- 
seilles I  often  made  mistakes  in  people  before  I 
knew  the  language  easily.  Half  knowing  a  lan- 
guage is  so  dangerous.  One  can't  judge.  Of 
course  the  gracious  fraulein  has  made  great 
progress,  still  Binder  is  a  foreigner  and  a  man, 
and—" 

"  Which  of  us  two  would  be  likely  to  have 
the  most  discernment  about  my  own  individual 
affairs?"  interrupted  Miss  Aurelia,  with  the  air 
of  an  incensed  mouse. 

Tony  gave  her  one  half-pitying,  half-pleading 
glance,  then  answered,  meekly,  "  The  gracious 
fraulein,  of  course." 

"Well,  then  !"  concluded  the  lady,  in  triumph. 


124  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

"  But—" 

"  Say  no  more,  Tony." 

This  crisis  passed,  Miss  Aurelia  felt  that  she 
had  evinced  unswerving  loyalty  as  well  as  judg- 
ment and  tact.  Tony's  preposterous  allegations 
made  absolutely  no  impression  upon  her. 

"  Oh,"  groaned  Tony,  when  alone,  "  oh,  if  it 
were  only  not  a  man  !  The  very  last  day,  and 
things  in  so  good  a  condition,  and  she  going  on 
so  nicely — through  people's  nonsense  and  hate- 
fulness  and  all  the  ins  and  outs — and  was  so  nice 
and  quiet  and  everywhere  looked  up  to ;  and 
now  she's  almost  escaped  me,  because  she's  in 
love — the  dear,  good,  innocent  lady. 

"  Of  course  she  wouldn't  hear  a  word  against 
him.  Who  would  ?  Would  I,  myself,  against 
Eduard  ?  But  then,  to  be  sure,  I've  got  a  man 
worth  having,  and  not  an  anchor-dangling  lazy- 
bones, with  a  dreadful  bine-flannel,  low-necked 
shirt;  and  he  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  himself! 
And  a  woman  may  be  a  lamb  when  she's  in  her 
right  mind,  but  when  she's  in  love  you  can  no 
more  influence  her  against  the  object  than  you 
can  coax  a  great  fiery  locomotive  to  take  a  qui- 
et walk  in  the  woods  with  you.  Well,  I've  had 
a  long  rest  since  the  countess,  and  my  mistress 
is  good  as  gold,  with  no  harm  in  her  heart  for 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  125 

anybody,  and  I'll  take  care  of  her — and  we'll 
see,  Fritz  Binder !" 

Tony's  troubles  now  began  in  earnest.  To  be 
vigilant,  yet  to  awaken  no  suspicion ;  to  cheer- 
fully accompany  Miss  Aurelia  on  the  dreaded 
aquatic  excursions,  and  not  let  fear  or  nausea 
dull  her  observation ;  above  all,  to  sustain  her 
mistress's  aristocratic  prestige  in  the  house,  in 
spite  of  her  spasmodic  mania  for  the  water,  and 
her  conspicuous  avoidance  of  the  mighty  con- 
clave— all  this  was  by  no  means  easy. 

Fortunately  for  Tony,  Miss  Aurelia,  at  Bin- 
der's suggestion,  chose,  at  this  juncture,  to  take 
lessons  in  rowing.  She  would  have  tried  to 
learn  to  fly  had  he  proposed  it.  Every  day  she 
was  to  be  seen  painfully  and  awkwardly  pulling 
against  the  current,  blisters  on  her  hands,  but 
joy  in  -her  heart.  Tony  was  divided  between 
pity  for  her  mistress  and  grim  rage  towards  the 
lazy,  smiling  boatman,  who  let  himself  be  lux- 
uriously rowed  about,  far  and  wide,  scarcely 
touching  the  oars.  She  secretly  vowed  person- 
al vengeance  when  the  time  should  be  ripe.  As 
yet  she  had  no  distinct  plans,  and  could  only 
watch  and  pray,  growing  each  day  more  dis- 
tressed and  uncertain  of  the  end  as  Miss  Aurelia 
grew  more  radiant. 


126  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

Still,  Tony  could  not  deny  that  the  rowing 
freak  was  a  help,  or  what  would  be  called,  in 
law,  an  extenuating  circumstance.  It  permitted 
her,  for  instance,  to  allude  to  the  necessity  of  ex- 
panding Miss  Yanderpool's  chest.  This  theme, 
judiciously  interlarded  with  the  names  of  a 
couple  of  world -renowned  doctors,  was  well 
started  at  the  servants'  table,  and  ascended  with 
due  rapidity. 

All  was  grist  that  came  to  Tony's  mill.  "I 
will  take  care  of  her,  whether  I  work  above 
ground  or  under  ground,"  she  resolved.  "  Above 
ground  I  prefer ;  still,  one  can't  always  choose, 
and  the  world  is  so  dull !  Have  they  no  eyes  ? 
Can  they  not  see  she  has  lost  her  senses  ?  Why, 
the  very  statues  on  the  bridge  laugh  when  the 
poor  lady  goes  under  the  arch,  pulling  for  dear 
life  against  the  stream,  and  so  proud  when  that 
Fritz  Binder,  sitting  there  behind  her  ogling 
me,  condescends  to  praise  her.  Can't  they  see 
she's  got  anchors  everywhere,  and  a  blouse  like 
a  schoolgirl,  and  a  rolled-up  sailor-hat,  all  to  be 
more  like  him  ?  Can't  they  see  that  I  can't  stop 
her,  and  nothing  can  stop  her?  Lord  help  us! 
If  I  speak  she'll  send  me  away,  and  then  there'll 
be  nobody  to  help  her,  and  nobody  to  throw 
dust  in  people's  eyes;  and  healthy  dust  it  is  for 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  127 

them,  too !  Why  should  they  understand  and 
laugh  at  her?  Would  that  help  matters?  And 
yet — and  yet — if  she  were  anybody  else,  how 
they  would  jeer !  How  fortunate  it  is  that  she  is 
very  plain,  and  that  I  started  her  with  a  fortune !" 

Yet,  indulgent  as  Tony  believed  the  world  to 
be  towards  the  eccentricities  of  the  owner  of  un- 
limited millions  and  a  plain  countenance,  she 
was  daily  in  an  agony  of  fear  lest  some  one 
should  set  the  ball  rolling  in  the  other  direction, 
above  all,  lest  some  one  should  laugh.  "  Why 
they  don't  laugh  is  a  mystery  to  me,"  she  sighed. 
"If  it  wasn't  my  dear,  good,  innocent  lady,  I 
should  laugh  myself  until  I'd  die.  And  no  won- 
der that  old  Frenchwoman  looked  at  her  curious- 
ly the  other  day  through  an  eyeglass,  and  called 
her  '  une  espbce  d' Anglais  ! ' " 

Miss  Aurelia's  face,  unlike  Fritz  Binder's,  did 
not  brown  handsomely  under  the  August  sun, 
but  grew  irregularly  red,  particularly  on  the 
end  of  her  nose.  It  must  also  be  confessed  that 
she  showed  to  less  advantage  in  her  piquant  ju- 
venile boating-costume  than  in  the  soft  and  so- 
ber draperies  in  which  Tony's  good  taste  had 
delighted  to  array  her.  Moreover,  she  was  grow- 
ing thinner  each  day,  and  her  form  was  one  that 
could  ill  bear  a  diminution  of  its  charms. 


128  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

Since  she  had  begun  to  row  the  distances 
traversed  were  really  considerable,  for  Binder 
manifested  no  want  of  energy  in  suggesting  the 
longest  possible  tours.  His  combinations  and 
fertility  of  resource  were  now  most  admirable, 
and  nothing  in  the  whole  neighborhood  was 
neglected.  She  rowed  him  to  the  Grand  Duke's 
Schloss  at  Mainau,  and  was  more  than  rewarded 
for  her  exertions  when  Binder  bestirred  himself 
sufficiently  to  pluck  an  ivy-leaf  from  the  castle 
wall  and  present  it  to  her.  They  made  an  ex- 
cursion to  Reichenan,  and,  listening  to  the  ro- 
mantic tale  of  Ekkehardt,  Miss  Aurelia  cast  en- 
raptured glances  at  her  graceful  boatman,  and 
only  wished  Ekkehardt  stood  there  in  the  flesh 
beside  him,  that  the  world  might  see  which  was 
the  greater  hero.  And  when  she  paid  her  re- 
spects to  the  good  parson  who  had  invented 
Yolapiik — the  world  language — she  longed,  in- 
stead, for  a  tongue  which  she  and  Binder  could 
alone  command. 

Tony  begged  to  be  allowed  to  learn  to  row,  but 
this  Miss  Aurelia  jealously  refused.  The  little 
maid  never  grew  sufficiently  accustomed  to  the 
boat  to  feel  quite  comfortable  or  safe  in  it,  but 
often  she  fancied  that  her  continued,  if  slight, 
sensation  of  nausea  might  proceed  as  much  from 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  129 

acute  disgust  at  Fritz  Binder  as  from  the  motion 
of  the  water.  His  manner  to  her,  however,  was 
sensible  and  manly  enough,  and  full  of  undis- 
guised admiration.  She  did  not  dare,  in  Miss 
Aurelia's  presence,  to  be  less  than  civil  to  him  ; 
but  she  jumped  in  and  out  of  the  boat  without 
his  assistance,  avoiding  his  hand  as  if  it  were  a 
viper,  and  she  scowled  at  him  with  appalling 
fierceness  whenever  she  could  do  so  with  im- 
punity. 

With  all  her  pent-up  resentment,  she  was  wise 
enough  never,  by  word  or  look,  to  criticise  him 
before  Miss  Aurelia.  It  required  her  utmost 
power  of  self-restraint;  but  after  that  first  and 
only  rebuke  she  knew  that  she  must  be  pa- 
tient. One  day  she  grew  sick  at  heart,  so  great 
were  her  impotent  rage  and  displeasure.  They 
had  had  a  long  row.  Binder  had  deigned  to 
accompany  Miss  Aurelia ;  that  is,  sitting  be- 
hind, he  had  gently  plied  his  oars  in  unison 
with  hers,  meanwhile  throwing  tender  glances 
over  her  shoulder  at  Tony. 

Miss  Aurelia  thought  that  it  was  heavenly. 
It  reminded  her  of  the  music  of  the  spheres. 
What  harmony  of  soul!  What  rhythm  in  the 
heart-beats!  Why  need  it  ever  cud?  Why  in 
tenderest  sympathy  should  they  two  not  row  on 
9 


130  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

forever?  He  had  sadly  called  himself  a  poor 
boatman,  but  was  he  not  eminently  superior  to 
any  one  she  had  ever,  ever  known  ?  A  little  cot- 
tage nestled  among  the  trees  on  the  shore  of 
that  blessed  lake,  and  that  almost  too  tender, 
almost  too  sensitive  heart  to — but  let  us  throw 
the- veil  of  charity  over  the  remainder  of  her 
maiden  meditation. 

It  was  impossible  for  Tony  not  to  compre- 
hend what  Binder's  eyes  were  saying,  asking, 
urgently  pleading.  For  many  days  he  had  per- 
sistently endeavored  to  gain  a  smile  or  friendly 
glance  from  her.  As  she  now  stared  over  his 
head  or  far  out  on  the  water,  and  forced  herself 
to  keep  the  contempt  out  of  her  face,  that  Miss 
Aurelia,  smiling  blissfully  and  pulling  bravely 
with  all  her  strength,  might  not  see,  a  sudden 
and,  to  her,  remarkable  thought  leaped  up  fresh- 
ly in  her  perturbed  brain.  She  repulsed  it  with 
a  shudder.  It  reappeared,  bold  and  tenacious. 
But  Eduard?  What  would  he  say?  "Never 
mind.  Knowing  rny  duty — I  can  make  him  all 
right  afterwards."  She  was  silent  and  abstract- 
ed the  whole  way  home. 

"When  they  reached  the  landing  she  accepted 
Binder's  assistance  for  the  first  time,  and,  draw- 
ing her  breath  hard  and  nerving  herself  as  if  to 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  131 

touch  a  reptile,  when  he  squeezed  her  hand,  she, 
Tony  Zschorcher,  squeezed  his  in  return. 

That  evening  she  wrote  to  Ednard.  After 
reading  the  letter  she  tore  it  into  many  long 
strips,  and  burned  them,  one  by  one,  in  her  can- 
dle. "Knowing  my  duty — "  she  murmured, 
softly ;  "  the  best  of  men  are  queer.*  Some  day  I 
will  tell  him — with  my  voice — not  with  written 
words."  Still,  she  was  glad  that  she  had  written 
the  letter,  for  it  had  laid  the  situation  clearly 
before  her,  and  exposed  the  enemy's  weak  points. 
Going  across  to  Miss  Aurelia,  that  lady  she  dis- 
covered was  also  writing,  apparently  the  first 
draft  of  something  important.  Her  manuscript 
consisted  chiefly  of  erasures,  and  the  English- 
German  lexicon  was  lying  open  close  at  hand. 

Tony  asked  permission  to  go  out,  which  Miss 
Aurelia,  hustling  her  papers  confusedly  togeth- 
er, gave  with  precipitation.  The  maid,  with  her 
demure,  respectful  air,  passed  out  of  the  room  ; 
but  as  the  door  closed  her  quiet  face  grew  dis- 
tressed and  frightened.  "  There's  not  a  mo- 
ment to  lose  —  oh,  dear  —  oh,  dear!"  Smiling 
again,  as  if  life  to  her  were  purest  balm,  she 
sought  the  servants'  hall,  and  her  friend,  the 
great  High-Dudgeon. 

"  Oh,"  she  began,  sweetly,  "  would  you  please 


132  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

be  so  kind  ?  Suppose,  General  High-Dudgeon, 
that  you  wished  your  sister  in  England  to  come 
to  you,  how  would  you  telegraph  that  in  your 
English?" 

"I  should  say,  'Emmeline,  come  direkly,'  or 
words  to  that  effect." 

"  "Would  you  please  write  it  for  me  ?" 

"That  and  more,  for  you,"  responded  the 
great  man,  gallantly.  "Must  you  telegraph  to 
England  ?  Emmeline,  you  know,  would  not  be 
necessary  unless  the  party's  name  was  Emme- 
line." 

"  No,  I  must  not  telegraph  to  England  or  to 
Emmeline.  But  it  does  seem  a  shame  to  neglect 
opportunities  such  as  I  have  at  present  to  learn 
really  superior  English.  All  you  gentlemen 
speak  French  so  easily  that  I  get  on  very  well. 
Still,  it  would  be  an  advantage  to  me  to  know 
English,  and  I  never  felt  it  more  than  at  this  very 
moment.  It's  a  great  language,  your  English." 

"  Well,  that's  true,"  he  admitted,  much  grati- 
fied, and  accepting  her  praise  as  if  he  were  the 
sole  originator  and  proprietor  of  the  English 
tongue.  "  Shall  I  write  some  more  for  you, 
Miss  Yanderpool  ?" 

"To-morrow,  thanks,  Major-general  High- 
Dudgeon,"  said  Tony,  escaping  as  fast  as  possible. 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  133 

She  now  went  straight  to  the  telegraph  office 
and  carefully  wrote  a  message,  hesitating  slight- 
ly at  the  signature.  "Knowing  my  duty,  it's 
too  late  to  stop  for  trifles,"  she  concluded,  and 
signed  her  despatch  with  a  bold  "A." 

Her  next  task  was  more  difficult,  and  she 
turned  red  and  white  by  turns  as  she  advanced 
to  it.  On  the  pier  some  boys  were  playing  a 
species  of  leap-frog.  She  called  one  of  them. 

"Do  you  know  Fritz  Binder?"  she  asked. 

He  grinned  assent. 

"  Do  you  know  where  he  is  likely  to  be  at 
this  time  3" 

"  Likely  to  be  a-drinkin'  beer." 

"Will  you  find  him,  and  give  him  this? 
And  here's  something  for  you." 

Binder,  in  the  midst  of  a  convivial  circle  of 
men,  pipes,  and  beer-mugs,  sprang  up  joyfully, 
uttering  the  German  equivalent  of  "By  thun- 
der!" Upon  the  paper  the  urchin  had  given 
him  was  written, "  The  park.  Last  walk.  Third 
tree.  Now.  T." 

On  wings  of  hope  he  flew  to  the  trysting- 
place. 

A  little  figure  in  a  waterproof  and  muffled  in 
much  veil  was  awaiting  him. 

"  Oh,"  stammered   the  hero   of  a   thousand 


134  TONY,  THE   MAID. 

rowing -parties,  the  ideal  of  boarding-schools, 
suddenly  growing  shy,  awkward,  and  happy,  "  I 
never  expected  this,  never — of  you !" 

"Nor  I  either,"  muttered  Tony,  with  a  groan 
of  exasperation. 

"  You  see,  you  were  always  so  frosty  and  so 
queer." 

"  Was  I  ?"  gasped  Tony,  hoarsely,  the  vials  of 
her  wrath  about  to  empty  themselves  upon 
him.  There  was  a  choking  sensation  in  her 

£j 

throat,  and  she  had  been  nursing  her  ire  and 
contempt  so  long  that  now,  at  the  critical  mo- 
ment, she  could  find  no  words. 

"I've  rowed  on  this  lake  ten  years,"  con- 
tinued the  deluded  young  man, "  and  I've  never 
seen  anything  like  3*011,  and  that's  why  I  couldn't 
keep  my  63*68  off  of  3*011,"  coming  a  little  nearer 
and  attempting  to  take  her  hand. 

"  Let  me  alone !"  she  exclaimed,  fiercely. 

"  Why,  Tony !" 

"  Don't  Tony  me !" 

Binder  had  had  a  large  experience  with  the 
fair  sex,  and  from  these  symptoms,  on  the  part 
of  a  young  woman  who  had  herself  proposed  a 
rendezvous,  he  not  unreasonably  concluded  that 
she  was  jealous. 

"Come — come  now,"  he  murmured,  coaxing- 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  135 

]y.  His  voice  was  eager  and  sincere.  By  the 
dim  park  light  she  saw  before  her  a  good-look- 
ing 3*011  ng  man  in  a  rough  coat  and  an  un ro- 
mantic hat.  She  shrank  as  much  as  possible  into 
the  shadow. 

"Fritz  Binder,"  she  began,  " Fritz  Binder — 
Fritz  Binder,  you — you  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
3Tourself !" 

"  Tony,  I  do  want  to  please  }*ou,  awfully ! 
You.  know  I  do.  You're  mad,  and  no  wonder, 
because  she  and  I  are  going  to  meet  in  the 
woods  to-morrow.  But  can  I  help  it  if  she  says 
she  wants  to  see  me  in  the  leafy  grove?  I'm 
not  a  swan ;  I  can  show  on  land,"  stretch- 
ing his  strong,  straight  legs  with  a  conscious 
laugh. 

Tony  clung  spasmodically  to  the  tree  and 
thought  that  she  should  die. 

"  Too  mad  to  speak  ?  "Well,  I'm  sorry.  But, 
honest  now,  could  I  know  you'd  care?  And  if 
a  lady  tells  a  man  to  meet  her  in  the  woods,  he 
goes,  doesn't  he?  She  says  she  has  something 
to  tell  me — me  alone.  Well,  I  don't  suppose  it 
will  hurt  me  much.  And  if  it  pleases  her," 
laughing  heartily,  "  what's  the  odds  ?  She  isn't 
the  first  woman  that  ever  made  a  fool  of  her- 
self. She  won't  be  the  last." 


136  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

"  The  woods,"  repeated  Tony,  mechanically. 
"  What  woods  ?" 

"  You  know  very  well,  the  woods  beyond  the 
villas.  Don't  try  to  fool  me,  you  little  witch. 
You've  heard  her  whispering  at  me  for  days. 
But  what's  the  use  of  wasting  time  about  her. 
See  here,  Tony,  don't  play  off.  When  a  girl 
like  you  meets  a  man  at  night  in  this  way,  she's 
in  earnest.  You  are  in  earnest,  Tony  ?" 

"  Yes,  I'm  in  earnest,"  she  groaned. 

"  There,  now,  that's  something  like,"  he  went 
on,  cheerfully.  "  And  I'm  in  earnest.  I  mean 
it  as  honest  as  ever  a  man  did.  And  I  won't 
go  near  the  woods  and  that  silly,  scraggy  old 
maid.  It  was  only  a  lark,  you  know,  and  her 
money  is  handsome,  if  she  isn't." 

In  Tony's  ordinarily  clear  head  the  wildest 
confusion  prevailed.  Plans  and  counter-plans, 
indignation  and  astonishment,  ran  riot. 

"  Tony,  don't  be  so  queer.  Be  a  little  friendly, 
can't  you  ?  Haven't  you  a  word  to  say  to  me  ?" 

"  To-morrow,"  she  answered,  with  a  violent 
effort. 

"  To-morrow  ?"  he  questioned,  joyfully. 

"  Yes.  I  shall  have  something  to  say  to  you 
to-morrow." 

"Where?    Here?" 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  137 

"No.     In  the  woods." 

"  Oh,"  he  laughed,  "instead  of  the  other  one?" 

"  Yes,  instead  of  the  other  one." 

"  But  hadn't  we  better  say  somewhere  else  ? 
There  might  be  a  collision." 

"  No.    Nowhere  else.    Only  in  those  woods." 

"Whew!  How  jealous  the  little  thing  is," 
he  thought,  complacently. 

"  Well,  well,  as  you  like,"  he  said,  in  a  sooth- 
ing tone.  "  Only  take  care  of  her." 

"Yes.  I'll  take  care  of  her.  Trust  me  for 
that,"  she  replied,  in  her  strange,  stifled  voice. 

"  What,  are  you  going?" 

"Yes,  Iain." 

"  And  won't  even  give  me  your  hand  ?" 

She  darted  off  two  or  three  steps  and  paused. 

"You — wait  until  to-morrow,  Fritz  Binder!" 
she  remarked,  with  extraordinary  emphasis,  and 
ran  rapidly  away. 

Binder  returned  to  his  friends  and  indulged 
in  sanguine  reflections. 

"  She  was  only  trying  to  punish  me.  I  like 
a  girl  with  spirit.  The  neat,  pert,  pretty,  wide- 
awake little  thing.  And  I  shouldn't  be  sur- 
prised if  her  savings  were  considerable.  We 
must  make  the  old  one  give  us  her  blessing,  and 
fork  over." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

TONY  WINS. 

"  I  SHALL  not  need  those  things  to-day,  Ton}7.," 
said  Miss  Aurelia,  with  a  vivid  blush. 

Ton}-,  as  usual  after  lunch,  had  laid  the  boat- 
ing-costume out,  and  the  rowing  gloves,  and  the 
sailor  hat  with  the  anchors. 

"Why  should  I  feel  embarrassed?"  thought 
Miss  Aurelia.  "Tony  will  soon  know  all." 

"I  am  going  to  take  a  stroll  in  the  woods," 
she  announced,  with  a  vain  attempt  at  compos- 
ure. "I  will  wear  the  grenadine,  Tony,  and 
the  pretty  little  tulle  hat." 

Tony,  with  alacrity,  made  the  requisite  changes 
in  her  dispositions. 

"Shall  I  take  parasols  or  umbrellas?"  she 
asked,  innocently.  "  Umbrellas,  perhaps.  The 
weather  is  uncertain." 

"  I  did  not  say  that  you  were  to  come," 
stammered  Miss  Aurelia,  with  another  painful 
blush. 


TONY,  THE    MAID.  139 

"  Oh,  will  the  gracious  f  raulein  walk  in  the 
woods  quite  alone?  Will  that  be  safe?" 

"I'm  not  afraid,"  replied  Miss  Aurelia, 
ashamed  of  her  equivocation,  yet  dwelling  with 
pride  upon  the  manly  strength  which  would 
support  and  protect  her. 

"  But  arn  I'not  to  meet  the  gracious  fraulein 
somewhere  to  walk  home  with  her?" 

Miss  Aurelia  looked  at  her  reflectively. 

Why  not?  Everything  would  be  settled 
then.  He  would  have  read  what  she  had  writ- 
ten, the  outpouring  of  her  deepest  and  truest 
sentiments.  How  fortunate  that  she  had  pro- 
posed the  woods.  There,  in  leafy  solitude,  amid 
the  song  of  birds,  he  would  not  hesitate  to  de- 
clare himself.  Would  he  deem  her  unmaidenly? 
Ah,  no !  Already  he  had  said  so  very  much  in 
eloquent  sighs  and  glances,  in  vague  yet  unmis- 
takable hints.  ShG  did  hope  her  German  was 
clear  enough.  She  had  at  least  taken  the  great- 
est pains  and  written  it  three  times.  The  wood 
was,  indeed,  necessary.  How  could  she  give 
the  precious  missive  to  him  in  the  boat?  How 
could  he  read  it  there  ?  But  Tony  was  waiting 
for  her  answer. 

"  Well,  yes,  Tony.  I  don't  mind  your  coming 
after  I  am  through  with  my  walk.  I  prefer  to 


140  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

be  undisturbed  until  five,"  she  faltered.  "I  am 
going  at  four.  You  might  leave  the  hotel  at 
five,  Tony." 

"  At  five,"  Tony  repeated,  dutifully.  "  And 
where  ?" 

Tony  was  now  quite  pale,  and  watched  her 
mistress's  uncertain  features  closely. 

"I  cannot  have  her  meet  him,"  reasoned 
the  lady.  "He  will  be  so  rapturous,  so  agi- 
tated." 

"Tony,"  she  said,  "you  know  the  broad  mid- 
dle path.  Well,  you  go  down  that  as  far  as  the 
stone,  and  then  turn  to  the  right — the  right, 
you  understand,  Tony." 

"  The  right,  gracious  fraulein." 

"At  five  or  a  little  later,  and  go  to  the  right, 
Tony,  and  wait  by  that  tallest  pine." 

"At  five,  to  the  right,  and  wait  by  the  pine." 

"  And  you  may  go  now,  Tony.  I  do  not  need 
you.  I  have  something  to  do.  Everything  is 
quite  ready,  thanks,"  she  said,  hurriedly,  long- 
ing to  prepare  herself  once  more  for  the  coming 
interview,  which  she  had  rehearsed  a  score  of 
times,  picturing  herself  gently  alluring,  yet  per- 
fectly discreet — in  short,  all  that  a  woman  ought 
to  be,  whose  lover  of  humble  station  is  con- 
sumed by  the  passion  he  dares  not  reveal. 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  141 

There  was  that  princess  who  proposed  to  a  doc- 
tor. It  seemed  to  Miss  Anrelia  her  case  was 
very  similar.  To  be  sure,  she  was  not  a  prin- 
cess. But  Fritz  was  certainly  infinitely  more 
fascinating  than  any  doctor  could  possibly  be. 
Then,  to  propose  fairly  and  squarely  was  far 
from  her  intentions.  She  was  merely  going  to 
delicately  give  him  to  understand  that — 

"  Tony,  why  are  you  waiting  ?" 

"  There  is  something  I  would  like  to  beg  of 
the  gracious  fraulein,"  said  the  girl,  softly,  re- 
garding her  mistress  with  a  singular  expression 
which  that  lady  was  far  too  excited  to  observe. 
Affection,  distress,  pity,  and  something  like  a 
prayer  for  pardon  were  portrayed  on  the  little 
maid's  fa-ce. 

"If  the  gracious  fraulein  should  hear  voices 
or  anything,  will  she  please  stand  perfectly  still 
and  listen,  before  she  goes  on  ?" 

Tony  was  very  pale  indeed. 

"How  absurd,  Tony!  Those  woods  are  so 
peaceful." 

"Yes — but  sometimes  there  are  people  there 
one  wouldn't  like  to  meet.  I  should  feel  so  much 
happier,"  she  pleaded,  "  if  the  gracious  fraulein 
would  only  promise  me  this." 

"  Well,  then,  I  promise.     Why  not  3" 


142  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

"  To  stand  perfectly  still  and  listen  ?  It  is  a 
promise  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes.     Bat  go  now,  Tony,  please." 

Before  Miss  Aurelia  prepared  to  start,  Tony 
was  walking  rapidly  towards  the  woods.  "If 
things  only  work  right !"  she  sighed,  throwing  a 
half-frightened  look  back  at  the  hotel  windows. 
Reaching  the  stone  in  the  broad  path,  she  mur- 
mured, "  To  the  right  and  wait  by  the  pine,"  then 
unhesitatingly  turned  to  the  left,  and  waited  by 
an  oak,  where  Miss  Aurelia  used  to  come  to  read, 
in  the  old  days  before  she  had  discovered  Fritz 
Binder. 

"  If  he  doesn't  come  I  could  choke  him,"  she 
muttered.  Presently  she  heard  a  footfall  on 
the  soft  turf  and  the  breaking  of  little  twigs. 

"  Thank  Heaven,  it's  Binder." 

On  he  came,  smiling,  complacent. 

"  Tony,"  he  cried,  stretching  out  his  arms 
playfully,  "give  me  a  kiss  to  make  up  for  last 
night." 

"  You  stand  where  you  are  and  keep  your 
distance.  First  of  all,  you  must  answer  some 
questions." 

"All  right,"  returned  Binder,  indulgently, 
"  only  d«n't  try  a  fellow's  patience  too  long." 

It  seemed  to  Tony's  sharpened  senses  that 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  143 

there  was  already  a  rustling  in  the  undergrowth 
not  far  off,  and  from  the  direction  in  which  she 
had  come. 

"  Stand  more  to  the  right,"  she  commanded, 
hastily,  "  so — profile  against  the  path." 

"Are  you  going  to  take  my  photograph?" 
laughed  Binder. 

"  Don't  move,"  said  Tony,  sternly,  "Answer 
me,  and  fast." 

"Oh,  I'll  answer  fast  enough.  I  want  my 
reward." 

"  And  honestly  ?" 

"  And  honestly.     Here's  my  hand  on  it." 

"Keep  your  hands  at  home!" 

"  For  the  present,  since  it's  your  whim,  I 
will." 

"Fritz  Binder,"  she  demanded,  solemnly, 
"where  did  you  get  all  those  lies  you  tell  in 
your  boat  ?" 

She  spoke  louder  than  usual,  and  it  was  not 
easy  for  her  to  keep  her  eyes  fixed  on  him  and 
at  the  same  time  to  closely  watch  the  motions 
of  a  figure  leaning  against  a  tree  at  a  little  dis- 
tance. 

Binder  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed  im- 
moderately. 

"Some  of  them  at  the  theatre,  some  of  them 


144  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

out  of  my  own  head,"  he  answered  at  last,  with 
great  glee. 

"Is  there  any  Prince  Botowski?" 

"  There  may  be  for  all  of  me,  but  I  never 
saw  him." 

"Is  there  any  Countess  Olga?" 

"  There  is,  but  I  don't  know  her." 

"  Is  there  any  schoolmistress  with  nine  young 
ladies  from  the  Khine  ?"  demanded  his  stern  in- 
quisitor. 

"Yes,  there  is,  and  they  all  dote  on  me.  That's 
no  lie,  or  the  sixty-three  anchors  either.  Most 
through  with  your  catechism  ?" 

"How  many  times  have  you  repeated  that 
weeping-willow  poem  ?  Five  hundred  2" 

"  At  least." 

"And  you  say  it  backwards  and  forwards  and 
zigzag  and  upside-down,  don't  you?" 

"Why  not?"  he  chuckled,  triumphantly. 
"  The  foreign  ladies  know  so  little  German." 

"  Do  you  know  any  other  poem  ?" 

"Not  I.  I've  made  heaps  of  money  out  of 
that  one.  It's  a  splendid  investment." 

"  And  you  chose  it  for  its  length,  didn't  you  ? 
To  keep  people  out  in  your  boat — night-tariff?" 

"  Oh,  yes.  It  belongs  to  my  stock  in  trade. 
Hurry,  Tony.  Time's  about  up." 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  145 

"  What's  all  that  about  your  heart  that  beats 
and  your  cruel  fate  and  your  sleepless  nights? 
Is  there  anything  particular  the  matter  with 
you?" 

"No,  there  isn't,"  he  declared,  with  a  great 
honest  laugh.  "I'm  sound  as  a  nut — heart, 
stomach,  and  liver.  But,  you  see,  suffering 
pleases.  No  man  on  the  lake  makes  as 
much  money  as- 1  do.  Do  you  suppose  mere 
rowing  pays?  It's  the  extras,  Tony,  the  ex- 
tras." 

"  What  extras  ?     Tell  me  everything." 

"What  an  eager  little  thing  you  are!  Well, 
the  fact  is,  Tony,  you  can  hardly  make  it  too 
strong  for  most  women.  Look  at  them  boldly, 
roll  up  your  eyes  at  them,  and  they  may  say  you 
are  impudent,  but  they  come  again  the  next  day. 
They  taught  me  my  business  themselves.  When 
I  began,  I  thought  only  of  rowing.  'What  a 
beautiful  boy,'  they  said, '  with  his  blue  blouse 
and  his  loose  collar.'  And  they'd  look  at  me 
and  talk  about  me  as  if  I  was  a  part  of  the  pier 
or  the  landscape.  Of  course,  I'd  have  been  a 
born  fool  if  I  hadn't  made  my  blouse  bluer  and 
my  collar  looser,  wouldn't  I,  little  Tony?" 

"Go  on,  go  on,"  she  exclaimed,  excitedly. 

"  '  What  an  attitude,'  the  ladies  would  say ; 
10 


146  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

1  how  picturesque,'  as  I  stood  quite  careless  like 
on  the  landing.  That  was  ten  years  ago.  Well, 
of  course,  I've  kept  that  attitude  and  been  im- 
proving upon  it  ever  since.  The  picturesque 
pays.  I've  learned  to  spout  a  few  phrases  and 
to  hit  my  breast  like  anything.  The  boat  is 
my  theatre,  and  the  same  thing  answers  the  pur- 
pose year  after  year.  The  women  always  like 
it.  They  just  dote  on  love-making.  I'm  some- 
times surprised  that  they  don't  get  tired,  for  I'm 
awfully  bored  often,  and  mighty  glad  to  get  into 
these  other  clothes,  when  nothing  is  expected 
of  me  but  to  take  my  glass  of  beer  like  an  hon- 
est man,  without  any  nonsense.  But,  looking 
at  it  as  business,  there's  nothing  on  the  lake 
that  pays  like  love-making.  Don't  you  see, 
Tony?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  see." 

"  But  the  ladies  teach  me ;  the  ladies  began  it, 
bless  'em.  Now,  that  little  dodge  of  mine  about 
being  but  a  poor  boatman,  and  my  aspiration  and 
the  curse  of  fate  and  all  that,  why,  it  was  a  lady 
that  showed  me  the  whole  thing.  She  made 
eyes  at  me  and  asked  me  if  I  didn't  suffer.  Of 
course,  I  said  yes.  She  said  she  saw  it  and 
sympathized  with  me,  and  I  must  not  despair. 
She  knew  I  was  a  noble  soul.  I  said  that  I 


TONY,  THE   MAID.  147 

was.  She  said  though  but  an  humble  boatman 
my  aspiration  soared  beyond  the  cold  and  cruel 
world.  I  sajd  that  it  did.  The  lake-business  is 
queer,  but  it's  paying,  because  the  ladies  educate 
a  man  in  his  profession.  I've  got  a  couple  of 
pupils.  They're  green  and  shy  still,  and  inclined 
to  laugh.  But  they'll  do  bravely,  as  soon  as  I 
launch  them.  But  what  has  all  this  to  do  with 
us,  Tony?  Don't  let's  talk  shop.  Let's  talk  of 
ourselves." 

Tony  drew  her  breath,  grew  paler,  and  cast  a 
quick  glance  over  her  shoulder. 

"  What  have  you  been  trying  to  do  with  Miss 
Yanderpool  ?" 

"Nothing  in  particular.  I've  had  plenty  of 
regular  customers  like  her,  easily  pleased,  you 
know,  and  liberal.  It's  like  fishing.  Some  fish 
bite,  some  don't.  My  bait  is  always  the  same. 
It's  luck.  She  bites." 

"  Have  you  ever  met  any  other  lady  in  these 
woods  ?"  she  asked,  in  a  clear  voice,  throwing  a 
pained,  pitiful  glance  over  her  shoulder. 

"  In  these  woods  ?  Good  Lord !  that's  the 
regular  thing.  If  ever  I've  had  a  wholesale 
customer  like  Miss  Yanderpool,  it  always  ends 
in  the  woods." 

Tony  looked  as  if  she  were  suffering  acute 


148  TONY,  THE   MAID. 

physical  pain.  High  and  distinct  came  her  next 
question. 

"  And  you  don't  love  Miss  Yanderpool,  don't 
admire  her,  don't  care  for  her  at  all  ?" 

It  seemed  to  Tony  that  the  very  trees  leaned 
forward  to  listen  to  his  answer. 

He  laughed  merrily. 

"  Do  you  take  me  for  a  fool  ?  Tony,  business 
is  business,  and  I  say  and  do  'what  I  must, 
whether  women  are  old  and  scraggy  or  not. 
Bat,  as  I'm  an  honest  man,  I  never  before  asked 
a  girl  to  marry  me,  and  I  do  ask  you.  I  don't 
know  anything  about  you.  But  you  please  me. 
You've  taken  hold  of  me.  Would  I  marry  one 
of  those  ogling,  silly  fools?  ~No,  not  if  she  was 
a  princess.  What  I  like  is  a  neat,  clean,  clever, 
sensible,  pretty  little  thing,  with  a  head  on  her 
shoulders,  like  you,  Tony.  Do  you  suppose 
I'd  marry  a  girl  that  couldn't  see  through  me? 
Speak  up  now,  yourself.  Say  you  like  me  a  little, 
Tony.  Come  now  1" 

She  darted  back  as  he  approached. 

"  Fritz  Binder,  in  the  first  place,  I'm  proud 
to  say  that  I've  been  engaged  to  be  married,  for 
years,  to  a  man  that  lives  by  honest  work  and 
not  upon  his  looks.  And  in  the  second  place, 
if  I  had  nobody  at  all  I'd  be  ashamed  to  keep 


TONY,  THE   MAID.  149 

company  with  such  as  yon,  trading  on  a  low- 
necked  shirt-collar  and  love-glances  and  lies. 
And  in  the  third  place,  Miss  Vanderpool  has 
heard  every  word  you've  said  from  behind  that 
tree,  and  she  sends  her  compliments  and  has 
amused  herself  very  much  this  summer,  but 
doesn't  require  your  boat  any  more.  And,  as  for 
me,  I  despise  you,  and  so  good-day  to  you,  Fritz 
Binder !" 

She  was  gone. 

Binder,  open-mouthed,  stared  after  her,  and 
saw  her  join  her  mistress.  The  situation  being 
unequivocal,  he  concluded  not  to  face  the  two 
irate  women,  but  to  retire  at  once  with  long 
strides. 

Tony  found  Miss  Aurelia  pressed  as  close  to 
a  tree-trunk  as  its  mantle  of  moss. 

How  they  reached  the  hotel  neither  of  them 
ever  knew. 

Tony  put  her  mistress  to  bed  with  a  hot- water 
flask  at  her  feet. 

Miss  Aurelia  turned  her  face  to  the  wall  and 
spoke  not  a  word.  Tony  ministered  to  her  with 
vast  and  silent  sympathy,  in  nameless,  tender 
ways  that  women  know. 

Shivers  ran  down  Miss  Aurelia's  back.  Hot 
tears  burned  her  eyes.  She  felt  weak,  crushed, 


150  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

helpless,  and  infinitely  ashamed.  From  her 
station  behind  the  tree  she  had  seen  no  hero, 
but  only  a  vulgar  and  hearty  young  man  in  re- 
spectable and  ill-fitting  clothes.  She  had  lis- 
tened to  the  exposition  of  his  principles.  They 
were  natural  enough.  She  could  even  find  some 
excuse  for  him.  But  she  did  not  recognize  him. 
lie  was  to  her  an  utterly  unknown  being.  Where 
was  the  hero  of  her  one  romance?  Where  was 
her  boatman,  her  gondolier,  her  gallant,  beauti- 
ful, high-souled,  aspiring,  sensitive,  suffering 
friend  ?  She  had  gazed  in  his  deep  eyes  for 
the  last  time  yesterday  in  the  boat.  As  if  sunk 
in  the  lake,  he  had  vanished  forever.  This 
heavy,  respectable-looking  day-laborer  had  noth- 
ing in  common  with  that  tender  and  exquisite 
youth. 

She  would  fain  have  visited  her  mortification, 
confusion,  and  bitter  disappointment  upon  Tony, 
but  that  discreet  little  person  was  a  rare  combi- 
nation of  devotion  and  tact,  perceived  no  rebuff, 
and  persisted  in  regarding  Miss  Aurelia  as  ill 
from  too  much  rowing.  She  told  the  doctor  so; 
she  announced  it  to  the  servants  and  to  all  in- 
quiring friends;  she  said  it,  in  fact,  so  often 
that  she  finally  believed  it  herself. 

In  the  course  of  the  following  morning  Mr. 


TONY,  THE    MAID.  151 

John  Vanderpool  made  his  appearance,  to  his 
niece's  immoderate  surprise.  She  was  lying  in 
bed,  because  it  suited  Tony's  views  to  keep  her 
there,  and  Miss  Aurelia  cared  too  little  what 
became  of  her  to  remonstrate. 

"  Well,  you  do  look  pulled  down,  Aurelia, 
upon  my  word,"  he  said,  kindly,  after  the  first 
greetings,  patting  her  hand  with  solicitude, 
"and  you  did  right  to  telegraph." 

Miss  Aurelia  stared,  and  was  about  to  speak, 
when  she  was  emphatically  pinched  by  Tony — 
the  only  act  of  positive  disrespect  of  which  she 
was  ever  guilty. 

"It  gave  me  a  start,  my  dear  girl.  I  took 
the  first  train,  and  here  I  am.  Now,  what  can 
I  do  for  you  ?" 

"  Take  me  away,"  she  said,  feebly,  tears  start- 
ing to  her  eyes. 

Tony  hurried  him  out  of  the  room. 

"  But  she's  not  able  to  travel,"  he  said,  anx- 
iously. 

"Oh,  yes;  all  she  needs  is  change  of  air. 
Now  her  dear  uncle  is  here  she  will  be  better. 
She  is  only  fatigued  from  too  much  row- 
ing." 

"  Kowing !"  exclaimed  the  astonished  old  gen- 
tleman. "Can  she  row?" 


152  TONY,  THE    MAID. 

"  Magnificently,"  returned  Tony,  with  enthu- 
siasm. 

Towards  evening  Miss  Aurelia  was  pronounced 
able  to  be  dressed,  and  even  to  take  a  turn  on 
the  lake  with  her  uncle. 

"I  cannot,  Tony,  I  cannot;  indeed  I  can- 
not," whispered  Miss  Aurelia. 

Tony  dressed  her,  cheered  her,  comforted 
her,  petted  her,  cooed  over  her  as  if  she  were  a 
baby,  but  to  the  lake  she  had  to  go. 

"  Mr.  John  Yanderpool,"  Tony  rejoined,  with 
cheerful  significance,  "  is  a  man  worth  seeing. 
When  one  has  a  gentleman  like  him  in  the  fam- 
ily it  is  well  that  people  should  know  it.  It 
prevents  misunderstandings." 

More  dead  than  alive,  Miss  Aurelia  was  drag- 
ged into  the  boat  of  an  old,  grayheaded  rower. 
"  Tony  is  cruel  to  bring  me  here,"  she  groaned, 
as  she  beheld  the  scene  of  her  lost  illusions. 
Pale,  passive,  speechless,  she  leaned  back  with 
half-closed  eyes. 

"Isn't  it  too  much  for  her?"  asked  Uncle 
John. 

"  She  will  be  better  for  it  afterwards,"  replied 
Tony,  sweetly. 

Presently  Mr.  Vanderpool  broke  into  a  hearty 
laugh. 


TAKE   ME   AWAY,'  SHE   SAID   FEEBLY." 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  153 

"  What  is  that  dandy  boatman  trying  to  do 
over  there?"  he  inquired. 

At  a  short  distance  from  them,  in  a  dainty 
white  boat,  sat  two  ladies,  gazing  enraptured 
upon  a  young  man  attired  in  a  highly  pictu- 
resque sailor  suit.  He  had  dropped  his  oars, 
and  was  beating  his  breast  vigorously.  Now  he 
stood  up,  and  made  frantic  motions,  as  if  about 
to  plunge  into  the  water. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  him  ?  and  what  a 
theatrical  puppy  he  is,"  commented  Uncle  John, 
still  laughing. 

"It's  only  Binder,"  volunteered  the  old  boat- 
man, with  a  grin.  "  He's  always  a-doing  that. 
He  says  the  ladies  like  it.  He  does  act  like  a 
fool,  but  he  ain't  one  on  shore." 

Miss  Anrelia  gasped  for  breath. 

"  Row  towards  him,"  said  Uncle  John.  "  Why, 
Tony,  you  ought  to  have  engaged  him.  He's 
as  good  as  a  circus." 

"  The  gracious  friiulein  has  often  employed 
Binder,"  Tony  rejoined,  seriously.  "  He  is 
amusing  at  first,  but  one  tires  of  him." 

The  boats  approached. 

Uncle  John  turned  his  laughing,  quizzical 
face  broadly  upon  Fritz  Binder. 

"  lie  is  telling  about  a  monster  who  hates 


154  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

women  and  roses,"  Tony  calmly  explained  to 
Mr.  Vanderpool.  "I  know  by  the  gestures. 
Now  lie  says  that  he  loves,  madly,  yet  how  re- 
spectfully." 

"  Ah,  gracious  fraulein,"  she  whispered,  im- 
ploringly, "if  you  would  only  look  happy;  if 
you  would  only  sit  up,  and  laugh  straight  in  his 
face;  dear  fraulein,  just  once,  now/" 

Inspired  by  her  eagerness,  Miss  Aurelia 
straightened  herself,  and  accomplished  a  smile 
which,  if  not  characterized  by  perfect  sponta- 
neity, was,  at  least,  a  perceptible  exercise  of  the 
facial  muscles,  such  as  society  often  demands  of 
us ;  and,  as  the  boats  passed  each  other,  Binder 
eaw  three  laughing  faces  surveying  him  ;  four, 
in  fact,  for  no  boatman  on  the  lake  ever  met 
him  without  a  knowing  grin. 

He  stared  an  instant  in  surprise  at  the  stout, 
elderly  cavalier,  then,  swinging  his  blue  cap, 
smiled  back  frankly  and  unabashed,  the  strong 
sunlight  shining  on  his  handsome  brown  hair 
and  bare  throat.  He  looked  hard  at  Tony,  con- 
flicting emotions  struggling  in  his  face,  but  a 
merry  parting  glance  won,  and,  with  a  shrug  of 
his  shoulders,  equivalent  to  "  After  all,  business 
is  business,"  he  resumed  the  duties  of  his  pro- 
fession. 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  155 

"Handsome  young  rogue,"  said  Uncle  John, 
"  and  enjoys  life  vastly.  I  wish  I  had  his  waist." 

"His  waist  is  a  very  different  thing  in  his 
other  clothes,"  returned  Tony,  with  composure. 

"  Tony,"  said  Miss  Aurelia,  late  that  night, 
blushing,  and  looking  very  miserable,  "  do  you 
think  that  it  is  my  duty  to — to  explain  ;  that  is 
to  say,  to  relate  anything  that  has  happened  to 
my  uncle  ?" 

"  Mr.  John  Vanderpool,"  returned  Tony,  stout- 
ly, "  no  doubt  has  his  little  pleasures  which  he 
does  not  relate  to  the  gracious  fraulein.  The 
gracious  fraulein  has  the  same  right  to  keep  her 
little  pleasures  to  herself.  After  all,"  she  add- 
ed, airily,  "  it  wras  the  merest  bagatelle !" 

Miss  Aurelia  gave  her  a  grateful  glance,  but 
Tony  was  looking  unconsciously  in  another  di- 
rection. Happily,  she  was  not  one  of  the  wom- 
en who  after  every  event  experience  the  gloat- 
ing desire  to  "talk  it  over,"  and  Miss  Aurelia 
was  ashamed  and  sore  in  the  deepest  recesses 
of  her  heart,  and  only  silence  could  heal  her 
wounds. 

The  next  day  they  left  Constance  amid  im- 
pressive adieux,  which  greatly  astonished  Uncle 
John.  Everybody  waa  at  the  door,  even  the 
wise  man  from  the  den  below,  and  Miss  Aurelia 


156  TONY,  THE   MAID. 

was  presented  with  countless  bouquets  and  boxes 
of  chocolate.  Mrs.  High -Dudgeon  stood  con- 
spicuously in  sight  till  the  very  last.  Mrs.  Ruy- 
Bric  murmured  lovingly  in  her  dearest  Miss 
Yanderpool's  ear  that  she  would  not  fail  to 
write  to  her  every  detail  of  the  progress  of  the 
little  church  in  Wales,  in  which  she  took  so 
deep  and  gratifying  interest.  Mr.  Puggums 
toddled  about  and  gurgled  to  the  mystified  Un- 
cle John,  "  Take  care  of  her.  She  is  truly  pre- 
cious. We  have  all  loved  her  well.  Let  me 
always  know  the  sweet  girl's  address."  "  She's 
a  lady  /"  thundered  Mrs.  High-Dudgeon,  in  a 
tone  that  made  Uncle  John  jump. 

Off  went  the  omnibus,  amid  wavings  of  hand- 
kerchiefs, waftings  of  kisses,  and  obsequious  sa- 
laams from  the  crowd  of  waiters.  Tony  had 
distributed  the  pourboire  prudently,  not  lav- 
ishly, for  she  knew  that  a  millionaire  need 
never  give  as  a  poor  man  must. 

"Upon  my  word!"  exclaimed  Uncle  John, 
looking  curiously  from  one  to  the  other.  He 
had  believed  that  he  knew  his  niece.  Miss  Au- 
relia  was  silent  and  pale ;  indifferent  to  her  tri- 
umphs, one  would  say. 

"She  has  been  much  admired  here,"  said 
Tony,  softly. 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  157 

"Indeed,"  remarked  Uncle  John,  and  fell 
into  a  brown  study. 

Several  times  that  day  Tony  caught  him  fur- 
tively casting  searching  glances  at  his  niece. 

They  went  to  a  place  of  Tony's  choosing, 
called  Herzensruh'.  (This  name  will  not  be 
found  on  Cook's  list.)  Here,  as  Miss  Aurelia 
had  desired,  people  were  kind  and  enjoyed 
themselves.  Some  of  them  had  titles  which 
would  have  interfered  with  the  enjoyment  of  a 
stern  and  rockbound  republican.  But  Uncle 
John  neither  bowed  down  to  them  nor  paid 
their  owners  the  equally  flattering  tribute  of 
scathing  and  contemptuous  disapproval.  He 
took  them  simply,  as  they  took  themselves,  and 
found  them  amiable  companions,  good  whist- 
players,  and  clever  at  political  discussions.  He 
even  privately  admitted  to  his  own  conscience 
that  had  he  been  born  a  French  marquis  with 
a  large  estate,  he  might  have  had  a  sneaking 
fondness  for  his  own  land,  language,  and  associ- 
ations, and  succumbed  to  the  weakness  of  not 
emigrating  to  America. 

Tony  did  not  push  the  Yanderpools  here. 
Where  others  were  at  rest  she  deemed  strug- 
gling out  of  place.  Everybody  was  kind  to  Miss 
Aurelia  and  admired  her  rowing.  Uncle  John 


158  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

was  particularly  impressed  with  this  new  accom- 
plishment. 

"I  would  never  have  believed  it!"  he  ex- 
claimed, with  much  respect.  "You  really  row 
very  well,  my  dear.  Who  ever  supposed  you 
had  any  muscle  and  '  go '  ? " 

"  I  had  a  great  deal  of  practice  at  Constance," 
she  would  reply,  at  first  with  a  blush,  but  grad- 
ually she  took  an  honest  pride  in  her  rowing, 
and  enjoyed  being  praised  for  it.  The  Fritz- 
Binder  episode  assumed  by  degrees  a  less  pain- 
ful aspect,  and  finally  imparted  a  certain  digni- 
ty to  her  meditations,  and  a  pensive  air  of  ex- 
perience to  her  countenance  when  the  tender 
passion  was  under  discussion. 

In  every  respect  her  uncle  found  her  im- 
proved. She  looked  better,  he  could  not  tell 
how  or  why.  She  spoke  better,  with  more  clear- 
ness and  decision ;  no  longer  irritating  him 
with  her  stammering  repetitions. 

"Aurelia's  rather  nice,"  he  found  himself 
often  thinking.  "Travel  is  improving  her. 
She's  liked  too.  What  a  fuss  they  made  over 
her  at  Constance."  Even  here  at  Herzensruh' 
the  ladies  said,  "  That  quiet  Miss  Yanderpool 
must  be  a  lovely  character.  Her  bright,  clever 
little  maid  worships  the  ground  she  walks  on." 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  159 

One  day  Uncle  John  was  watching  Tony's 
healthy,  supple  little  figure  moving  lightly 
about  the  room  as  she  put  things  to  rights,  and, 
struck  anew  with  the  keen  look  of  her  eyes 
and  her  charming  smile,  he  demanded,  sud- 
denly, 

"  Tony,  why  haven't  you  married  ?" 

"  Oh,  Uncle  John !"  remonstrated  Miss  Aure- 
lia.  "  Don't !  Every  woman  has  her  heart-his- 
tory." She  sighed,  and  looked  wise. 

"  Tony  doesn't  mind,"  he  persisted.  "  Why 
aren't  you  married,  Tony  ?" 

"  Well,  sir,  I  mightjiave  several  times,  but — " 

«  But— ' 

"But  you  know  if  you  set  your  heart  on  any- 
body that's  the  end  of  it.  The  others  were  the 
right  sort,  and  good-looking  and  diligent ;  but 
there — I  don't  want  anybody  but  him !"  she 
exclaimed,  with  a  splendid  flash  of  color  and  a 
happy  smile. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  him?" 

"Nothing,  thank  God." 

"  Does  he  like  you  2" 

"  Of  course,"  with  a  serene  look. 

"  Then  you're  engaged  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  surely." 

"Where  is  he?" 


160  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

"  At  his  work,  in  a  little  town  in  the  Suabian 
Oberland." 

"What  is  he?" 

"  A  master-builder.  Oh,  he's  educated.  He 
can  talk  with  anybody  about  styles,"  she  added, 
proudly.  "One  look  at  a  building,  and  he  can 
tell  you  all  about  it — Gothic,  Renaissance,  ev- 
erything." 

"How  long  have  3*011  been  engaged?"  de- 
manded Uncle  John. 

Tony's  bright,  courageous  face  looked  at  him 
cheerily. 

"Eleven  years,"  she  said. 

"Here — here — is  the  German  Fatherland!" 
he  muttered.  "  But  why  in  the  dickens  don't 
you  marry  ?" 

She  hesitated. 

"  We  shall — some  day,  when  we  have  saved 
something." 

"  Jacob  served  fourteen  years  for  Rachel." 

"In  Germany  Rachel  serves  too,"  rejoined 
Tony,  brightly. 

"But  why  haven't  you  saved  your  earnings? 
You  have  good  wages." 

"  You  see,  sir,  there  are  the  parents." 

"Whose  parents?" 

"My  parents." 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  161 

"Are  they  feeble?" 

"  Happily,  no.  They  are  strong  and  able- 
bodied." 

"  Then,  Tony,  what  do  you  mean  ?" 

"Oh,"  she  said,  distressed,  "I'm  not  bound 
to  work  for  them.  They  don't  ask,  but  if  I 
don't  give  it  makes  me  unhappy.  I  can't  bear 
cold  looks  or  the  door  closed  on  me  a  Sunday 
afternoon.  It  isn't  the  right  kind  of  a  home 
where  there's  no  peace.  I'd  do  anything  for 
peace.  And  so  it  goes  year  after  year.  I  might 
have  had  three  thousand  mark  in  the  bank  if  it 
weren't  for  my  father.  The  mother — it's  not 
her  fault,  but,  of  course,  when  he  sulks  she  gives 
way,  and  it's  no  home  to  come  back  to,  so  I 
think,  'Well,  they  may  have  it  this  time.'" 

"  How  old  is  your  father?"  asked  Uncle  John, 
walking  rapidly  up  and  down  the  room. 

"  Father's  forty-eight,  and  well  and  strong, 
and  has  his  trade.  lie's  not  my  real  father." 

"Where  is  your  real  father?"  Mr.  Vander- 
pool  asked,  much  puzzled. 

She  hesitated. 

"Is  he  dead?" 

"  I  never  had  any,"  she  answered,  very  gently. 

"  Ah  !"  said  Uncle  John ;  and  thought,  "  Poor 
little  girl,  with  your  finely  cut  face,  and  your 
11 


162  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

brain  and  nerve  and  race  and  sensitiveness  and 
mastery  of  us  all — this  is  the  problem  I  have 
unconsciously  been  studying;  no  father!" 

"Tony,"  he  began,  peremptorily,  "yon  mean 
to  say  that  you  have  been  supporting  for  years 
an  able-bodied  man  who  isn't  even  of  your  own 
blood  ?" 

"Since  I  was  twelve  }7ears  old  I  have  helped 
-yes." 

"  And  for  what  earthly  reason,  I  should  like 
to  inquire?" 

"lie  is  a  respectable  man,"  she  said,  softly, 
"and  he  married  my  mother  when  I  was  a  little 
baby.  My  mother  is  good  and  patient  and 
faithful  —  the  best  of  women;  but  every  man 
wouldn't  have  done  what  he  did.  I  don't  know 
as  it's  unnatural  that  he  should  expect  me  to  do 
something  for  him.  He  is  so  very  respectable. 
His  reputation  is  excellent.  Of  course,  it  was 
always  a  trial  to  him  that  I  was  there."  With 
a  pretty,  deprecating  look  at  Miss  Aurelia,  "I 
am  very  sorn*,"  she  added.  "  These  things 
aren't  pleasant,  but  they  are  in  the  world.  They 
are  true." 

"  God  bless  my  soul,  yes,"  ejaculated  Uncle 
John.  After  a  pause,  "See  here,  Tony,"  he 
began,  "  have  you  never  tried  to  stop  this  black- 
mail business?" 


TONY,  THE  MAID.  163 

"  Oh,  yes.  That's  why  I  came  away  from 
home.  Once  I  had  a  dressmaking  shop.  I've 
learned  my  trade  thoroughly.  I  was  doing  well, 
very  well.  But  I  couldn't  keep  anything.  It 
all  went.  It  will  he  hetter  some  day,"  she  said, 
bravely. 

"Does  the  man  drink?" 

"  Oh,  no.  He  is  most  respectable,  as  I  have 
said.  He  is  very  pleasant  with  me,  too,  when 
all  goes  well.  The  mother  is  glad  when  we  all 
go  out  together." 

"  Tony,  my  girl,  it's  a  relief  to  me  to  be  able 
to  tell  you  that  you  are  a  little  fool.  You  have 
struck  me  as  so  supernaturally  clever,  so  far  be- 
yond anybody's  years,  so  happy  and  gentle  and 
cheery  and  good,  such  a  paragon,  in  fact,  th.it 
you  made  me  rather  uncomfortable.  Now  that 
I  know  that  you  are  a  little  fool  I  feel  better." 

Mr.  Vanderpool  was  flourishing  his  handker- 
chief about  his  nose  and  eyes  in  a  singular  man- 
ner. 

Tony  laughed  brightly. 

"You  need  a  bit  of  sound  advice,  you  and 
your  Jacob." 

"Eduard,"  she  corrected  prettily,  and  as  if 
she  loved  the  name. 

"You  two  ought  to  marrv  and  done  with  it, 


164  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

and  start  fresh  somewhere  else.  Eleven  years ! 
Merciful  powers!" 

"  It's  I  that  won't  go  to  him  with  empty  pock- 
ets. He  would  take  me  without  a  penny.  But 
his  parents  are  very  respectable.  They  have 
the  right  to  look  high."  She  sighed,  but 
quickly  smiled  again.  "He  will  wait,"  she 
said. 

"  Have  you  never  thought  of  going  far  away 
with  him  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes.     But  it's  such  a  step." 

"  It's  more  than  a  step,  it's  a  voyage.  You 
send  for  Jacob,  and  let  me  have  a  talk  with 
him.  I  may  want  to  engage  a  master-builder 
myself— one  that  knows  Gothic  from  Renais- 
sance. I  think  you'd  better  leave  all  these  very 
respectable  old  parties.  And  I  presume  you 
could  look  after  Miss  Yanderpool  just  the  same, 
couldn't  you?  Aurelia,  they  might  have  a 
couple  of  rooms  in  the  gardener's  house,  I  should 
think.  Once  in  America,  Tony,  you  could  easily 
bring  your  people  to  terms,  and  help  them,  too, 
very  decently  if  you  should  wish." 

"America!"  exclaimed  Tony,  rosy  with  de- 
light. "  Oh,  sir—" 

"  Oh,  Tony  !  oh,  Uncle  John  !  What  a  beau- 
tiful and  perfect  plan  !" 


TONY,  THE   MAID.  165 

"You  send  for  Jacob,"  lie  repeated,  as  he  left 
the  room. 

"Knowing  my  duty — I  will." 

"Tony,"  Miss  Aurelia  began,  "I  am  glad, 
too,  that  you  have  been  foolish.  It  was  good 
and  generous,  but  foolish,  very.  Everybody  is 
foolish  once,"  she  said,  with  a  sigh,  and  her 
newly-acquired  look  of  romantic  reminiscence; 
"  but  some  more  than  others.  Tony,  there  is 
something — we  have  never  spoken  of  it ;  I  never 
could — but  I  have  often  wished  to  ask  you 
since — since  that  peculiar  and  unfortunate  ex- 
perience on  the  Lake  of  Constance,  when— 

"  Since  the  gracious  fiiinlein  chose  to  learn  to 
row,"  suggested  Tony,  serenely. 

"  Yes,  since  I  chose  to  learn  to  row.  It  is 
this,  Tony.  Do  you,  or  do  you  not,  know  right 
from  left?" 

"When  the  gracious  fiiiulein  explains  I  seem 
to  understand,"  began  Tony,  casting  down  her 
eyes. 

Miss  Aurelia  shook  her  head  incredulously. 

"That  day — that  dreadful  day,  Tony — there 
was  enough  that  I  understood  too  well ;  but 
there  was  much  I  could  not  understand.  I  told 
you  the  right  path,  and  you  had  time  to  think 
and  choose,  and  yet  you  went  to  the  left.  How 


166  TONY,  THE  MAID. 

much  was  accident,  Tony  ?  How  much  did  you 
know  ?" 

Tony  hesitated  an  instant.   Her  eyes  sparkled. 

"  Gracious  franlein,"  she  answered,  "  I've 
knocked  about  this  world  more  than  a  dear, 
good,  innocent  lady  can  ever  imagine,  and  this 
much  I've  learned.  Things  are  right  or  left  ac- 
cording as  one  stands.  The  path  I  took  was 
the  right  path — coming  home  !" 

Miss  Aurelia  looked  at  her  in  gentle  per- 
plexity. 

"  All,  Tony,  1  fear  that  you  are  a  sad  rogue." 

The  little  maid  returned  her  gaze  with  a  bc- 
nevolont  and  humorous  smile. 

"Knowing  my  duty,  gracious  fraulein —  I 
am." 


THE   END. 


BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

By  LEW.  WALLACE.    New  Edition  from  New  Electrotype 
Plates,     pp.  560.    16mo,  Cloth,  $1  50;  Half  Calf,  $3  00. 


Anything  so  startlinz,  new,  ami  distinctive  as  the  leading  feature  of 
this  romance  does  not  often  appear  in  works  of  flciion.  . .  .  Some  of 
Mr.  Wallace's  writing  is  remarkable  for  its  pathetic  eloquence.  The 
scenes  described  in  the  New  Testament  are  re-written  with  the  power 
and  skill  of  an  accomplished  master  of  style.— A'.  Y.  Times. 

Its  real  basis  is  a  description  of  the  life  of  the  Jews  and  Romans  at 
the  beginning  of  the  Christian  era,  and  this  is  both  forcible  and  brill- 
iant. .  .  .  We  are  carried  through  a  surprising  variety  of  scenes;  we 
witness  a  sea-fight,  a  chariot-race,  the  internal  economy  of  a  Roman 
galley,  domestic  interiors  at  Antioch,  at  Jerusalem,  and  among  the 
tribes  of  the  desert;  palaces,  prisons,  the  haunts  of  dissipated  Roman 
youth,  the  houses  of  pious  families  of  Israel.  There  is  plenty  of  ex- 
citing incident;  everything  is  animated,  vivid,  and  glowing. — X.  Y. 
Tribune. 

From  the  opening  of  the  volume  to  the  very  close  the  reader's  in- 
terest will  be  kept  at  the  highest  pitch,  and  the  novel  will  be  pro- 
nounced by  all  one  of  the  greatest  novels  of  the  day. — Boston  I'uxt. 

It  is  full  of  poetic  beauty,  as  though  born  of  an  Eastern  sage,  and 
there  is  sufficient  of  Oriental  customs,  geography,  nomenclature,  etc., 
to  greatly  strengthen  the  semblance. — Boston  Commonwealth, 

"  Ben-IIur  "  is  interesting,  and  its  characterization  is  fine  and  strong. 
Meanwhile  it  evinces  careful  study  of  the  period  in  which  the  scene  is 
laid,  and  will  help  those  who  read  it  with  reasonable  attention  to  real- 
ize the  nature  and  conditions  of  Hebrew  life  in  Jerusalem  and  Ro- 
man life  at  Aatioch  at  the  time  of  our  Saviour's  advent.— Examiner, 
N.  Y. 

It  is  really  Scripture  history  of  Christ's  time,  clothed  gracefully  and 
delicately  in  the  flowing  and  loose  drapery  of  modern  fiction.  .  . .  Few 
hue  works  of  fiction  excel  it  in  genuine  ability  and  interest.— A".  1'. 
Graphic. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  and  delightful  books.  It  is  as  real  and 
warm  as  life  itself,  and  as  attractive  as  the  grandest  and  most  heroic 
chapters  of  history.—  Indianapolis  Journal. 

The  book  is  one  of  unquestionable  power,  and  will  be  read  with  un- 
wonted interest  by  many  readers  who  are  weary  of  the  conventional 
novel  and  romance.— Boston  Journal. 


PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK. 

HE^"  The  above  work  Kent  by  mail,  postage  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the 
United  States  or  Canada,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


BY  CONSTANCE  F.  WOOLSON. 

EAST  ANGELS,     pp.  592.     16mo,  Cloth,  $1  25. 
ANNE.     Illustrated,     pp.  540.     16mo,  Cloth,  $1  25. 
FOR  THE  MAJOR,    pp.  208.    16mo,  Cloth,  $1  00. 

CASTLE    NOWHERE,     pp.  386.     16mo,  Cloth,  $1  00. 
(A  Now  Edition.) 

RODMAN  THE  KEEPER.     Southern  Sketches,     pp. 
340.     16mo,  Cloth,  $1  00.     (A  New  Edition.) 


There  is  a  certain  bright  cheerfulness  in  Miss  Woolson's  writing 
which  invests  nil  her  characters  with  lovable  qualities. — Jewish  Advo- 
cate, N.  Y. 

Miss  Woolson  is  among  onr  few  successful  writers  of  interesting 
magazine  stories,  and  her  skill  and  power  are  perceptible  in  the  de- 
lineation of  her  heroines  no  less  than  in  the  suggestive  pictures  of 
local  life. — Jewish  Messenger,  N.  Y. 

Constance  Fenimore  Woolsou  may  easily  become  the  novelist 
laureate. — Boston  Globe. 

Miss  Woolson  has  a  graceful  fancy,  a  ready  wit,  a  polished  style,  and 
conspicuous  dramatic  power ;  while  her  skill  in  the  development  of  a 
story  is  very  remarkable. — London  Life. 

Miss  Woolson  never  once  follows  the  beaten  track  of  the  orthodox 
novelist,  but  strikes  a  new  and  richly  loaded  vein,  which  so  far  is  all 
her  own  ;  and  thus  we  feel,  on  reading  one  of  her  works,  a  fresh  sen- 
sation, and  we  put  down  the  book  with  a  sigh  to  think  our  pleasant 
task  of  reading  it  is  finished.  The  author's  lines  must  have  fallen  to 
her  in  very  pleasant  places;  or  she  has,  perhaps,  within  herself  the 
wealth  of  womanly  love  and  tenderness  she  pours  so  freely  into  all 
she  writes.  Such  books  as  hers  do  much  to  elevate  the  moral  tone  of 
the  day— a  quality  sadly  wanting  iu  novels  of  the  time. — Whitehall 
Review,  London. 


PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK. 

t^jr"  The  above  works  sent  by  mail,  postage  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the 
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BY  MRS.  BURTON  HARRISON. 


BAR  HARBOR  DAYS.    A  Tale  of  Mount  Desert     Il- 
lustrated by  Fenn  and  Hyde.     16mo,  Cloth,  $1  25. 

A  bright  story  of  life  at  Monut  Desert.  ...  It  is  exceedingly  well 
done,  and  the  scenery,  the  ways  of  the  people,  and  the  social  methods 
of  the  rnsticntors  lend  interest  to  the  book. — Christian  Advocate,  N.  Y. 

The  book  is  bright  and  readable. — Courier,  Boston. 

A  delightful  book  about  Mount  Desert,  Us  summer  inhabitants, 
their  sayings  and  doings. — N.  Y.  Sun. 

One  of  the  most  attractive  books  of  the  season,  and  will  be  in  great 
demand  by  readers  who  wish  an  original,  captivating  summer  idyl.— 
Hartford  I'ost. 

HELEN  TROY     16mo,  Cloth,  $1  00. 

It  is  a  breezy  little  society  novel,  with  a  pretty  plot  and  a  number 
of  capitally  drawn  characters.  .  .  It  is  always  bright,  fres-h,  and  en- 
tertaining, aud  has  an  element  of  naturalness  that  is  particularly 
pleasing.  The  descriptions  are  very  spirited,  the  conversations  are 
full  of  point  and  often  genuinely  witty,  and  the  tone  of  the  whole  is 
both  refined  and  delicate. — Saturday  Evening  Gazette,  Boston. 

The  book  is  written  with  exceeding  cleverness,  and  abounds  in  de- 
lightful little  pictures.— The  Critic,  N.  Y. 

Mrs.  Harrison's  style  is  crisp,  epigrammatic,  piquant ;  she  shades 
her  characters  artistically,  paints  from  real  life,  and,  without  hurrying 
the  reader  along,  never  lets  her  story  drag.  .  .  .  The  merit  of  the  work 
lies  in  the  fidelity  of  its  portraiture  aud  the  felicity  of  its  utterance. — 
.V.  Y.  Uerald. 

GOLDEN  ROD  .  AN  IDYL  OP  MOUNT  DESERT. 

32mo,  Paper,  25  cents ;  Cloth,  40  cents. 

A  very  sweet  little  story  of  a  successful  courtship,  wrought  into  a 
chiirming  description  of  scenery  and  life  on  Mount  Desert. — Spring- 
fi"U  (111.)  State  Journal. 

This  is  a  most  charming  summer  story — "  An  Idyl  of  Mount  Des- 
ert"— the  mere  reading  of  which  makes  you  long  to  be  there,  and  to 
leel  sure  you  will  find  the  delightful  people,  and  just  in  the  particular 
nooks,  you  have  been  reading  about.  —  Galexburg  (111.)  Republican 
Register. 

PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK. 

f£S~  The  above,  work*  sent  by  mail,  pnntarie  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  tht 
United  States  or  Canada,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


THE  ENTAILED  HAT; 

Or,  Patty  Cannon's  Times.  A  Romance.  By  GEORGE 
ALFRED  TOWNSEND  ("Gath").  Pages  x.,  566.  16mo, 
Cloth,  $1  50. 


Neither  Hawthorne  nor  Dickens  ever  painted  their  characters  more 
vividly  than  has  Mr.  Townsend  those  of  Vesta  and  Milburu,  the  owner 
of  "  Steeple  Top."  The  events  which  led  up  to  the  fatal  night  when 
Vesta  was  informed  of  the  true  condition  of  affairs  are  the  creation  of 
genius.  The  entrance  of  Milburu  into  the  aristocratic  home  of  Judge 
Custis,  to  plead  his  own  case,  and  his  manner  of  doing  it,  is  an  artistic 
piece  of  literary  work  which  will  excite  the  admiration  of  the  critical 
reader. — Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

The  book  is  remarkable  in  its  local  color,  its  vigorously  drawn  char- 
acters, and  its  peculiar  originality  of  treatment.  The  interest  is  ex- 
ceedingly dramatic,  and  there  is  enough  of  incident  to  furnish  a  half- 
dozen  ordinary  novels.  .  .  .  The  story  is  so  well  told,  and  with  such 
picturesqneness  of  effect  generally,  that  the  reader  is  carried  unresist- 
ingly along  in  the  skilfully  stimulated  desire  to  know  the  final  fate  of 
the  actors  in  the  exciting  drama.  This  romance  is  a  remarkable  one 
in  many  respects.—  Saturday  Evening  Gazette,  Boston. 

Vesta  Ctistis  and  Ifhoda  test  the  power  of  the  author  in  drawing 
feminine  characters,  and  he  has  more  than  met  the  demands  made 
upon  him.  They  stand  out  from  the  pages  like  flesh-and-blood  creat- 
ures. Equally  successful  is  the  delineation  of  Patty  Cannon  and  the 
life  of  the  negro  kidnappers.  The  story  moves  rapidly,  and  the  unflag- 
ging interest  of  the  reader  is  maintained  almost  to  the  end.  It  enti- 
tles Mr.  Townseud  to  a  high  place  in  the  ranks  of  American  novelists, 
and  it  would  not  be  surprising  if  the  "  Entailed  Hat "  held  a  perma- 
nent place  in  American  literature.  We  know  of  no  story  in  which 
the  details  of  American  life  have  been  so  skilfully  used,  except  in  the 
novels  of  Hawthorne  and  Bayard  Taylor — Philadelphia  Press. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  find  in  recent  fiction  a  lovelier  woman  than 
Vesta,  or  a  more  touching  one  than  the  exquisite  slave  Virgie,  or  a 
stronger  one  than  Milburn,  or  better  portraits  of  the  common  life  of 
the  time  and  place  than  Levin  Dennis  and  Jimmy  Phoebus  and  Jack 
Wonnell.  .  .  .  The  story  has  decided  power  and  originality,  and  is  a 
marked  contribution  to  our  really  native  fiction.  — Hartford  Daily 
Courant, 


PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK. 

I3T"  The  above  work  sent  by  mail,  postage  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the 
United  States  or  Canada  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


THEIR  PILGRIMAGE. 

By  CHARLES  DUDLEY  WARNER.     Richly  Illustrated  by 
C.  S.  REINHART.      pp.  viii.,  364.      8vo,  Half  Leather 

$200. 


Aside  from  the  delicious  story— its  wonderful  portraitures  of  char- 
acter and  its  dramatic  development— the  book  is  precious  to. all  who 
know  anything  about,  the  great  American  watering-places,  for  it  con- 
tains incomparable  descriptions  of  those  famous  resorts  and  their 
frequenters.  Even  without  the  aid  of  Mr.  Reinhart's  brilliant  draw 
ings,  Mr.  Warner  conjures  up  word-pictures  of  Cape  M:iy,  Newport, 
Saratoga,  Lake  George,  Kichfleld  Springs,  Niagara,  the  White  Mount- 
ains, and  all  the  rest,  which  strike  the  eye  like  photographs,  so  clear 
is  every  outline.  But  Mr.  Heinhart's  designs  fit  into  the  text  so 
closely  that  we  could  not  hear  to  part  with  a  single  one  of  them. 
"Their  Pilgrimage"  is  destined,  for  an  indefinite  succession  of  MI  tu- 
rners, to  be  a  ruling  favorite  with  all  visitors  of  the  mountains,  the 
beaches,  and  the  spas. — A'.  Y.  Journal  of  Commerce. 

The  author  touches  the  canvas  here  and  there  with  lines  of  color 
that  fix  and  identify  American  character.  Herein  is  the  real  charm 
for  those  who  like  it  best,  and  for  this  one  may  anticipate  that  it  will 
be  one  of  the  prominent  books  of  the  time.  Of  the  fancy  and  humor 
of  Mr.  Warner,  which  in  witchery  of  their  play  and  power  are  quite 
independent  of  this  or  that  subject,  there  is  nothing  to  add.  But  ac- 
knowledgment is  due  Mr.  Reiuhart  for  nearly  eighty  finely  conceived 
drawings. — Boston  Globe. 

No  more  entertaining  travelling  companions  for  a  tour  of  pleasure 
resorts  could  be  wished  for  than  those  who  in  Mr.  Warner's  pages 
chat  and  laii'.'h,  and  skim  the  cream  of  all  the  enjoyment  to  be  found 
from  Mount  Washington  to  the  Sulphur  Springs.  .  .  .  His  pen-pictures 
of  the  characters  typical  of  each  resort,  of  the  manner  of  life  followed 
at  each,  of  the  humor  and  absurdities  peculiar  to  Saratoga,  or  New- 
port, or  Bar  Harbor,  as  the  case  may  be,  are  as  good-natured  as  they 
are  clever.  The  satire,  when  there  is  any,  is  of  the  mildest,  and  the 
general  tone  is  that  of  one  glad  to  look  on  the  brightest  side  of  the 
cheerful,  pleasure-seeking  world  with  which  he  mingles.  .  .  In  Mr 
Reinhart  the  author  has  an  assistant  who  has  done  with  his  pencil 
almost  exactly  what  Mr.  Warner  has  accomplished  with  his  pen.— 
Christian  Union,  N.  Y. 


PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NKW  YORK. 

The  above  work  sent  by  mail,  postage  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the 
United  States  or  Canada,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


UPON  A  CAST. 

A  Novel.     By  CHARLOTTE  DUNNING,     pp.  330.     iGmo, 
Cloth,  $1  00. 


It  embodies  throughout  the  expressions  of  genuine  American  frank- 
ness, is  well  conceived,  well  managed,  and  brought  to  a  delightful  and 
captivating  close. — Albany  Press. 

The  author  writes  this  story  of  American  social  life  in  an  interest- 
ing manner.  .  . .  The  style  of  the  writing  is  excellent,  and  the  dialogue 
clever. — AT.  Y.  Times. 

This  story  is  strong  in  plot,  and  its  characters  are  drawn  with  a  firm 
and  skilful  hand.  They  seem  like  real  people,  and  their  acts  and 
words,  their  fortunes  and  misadventures,  are  made  to  engage  the 
reader's  interest  and  sympathy.—  Worcester  Daily  Spy. 

The  character-painting  is  well  done.  .  -  .  The  sourest  cynic  that  ever 
sneered  at  woman  cannot  but  find  the  little  story  vastly  entertaining. 
— Commercial  Bulletin,  Boston. 

The  life  of  a  semi-metropolitan  village,  with  its  own  aristocracy,  gos- 
sips, and  various  other  qualities  of  people,  is  admirably  portrayed.  .  .  . 
The  book  fascinates  the  reader  from  the  first  page  to  the  last. — Boston 
Traveller. 

The  plot  has  been  constructed  with  no  small  skill,  and  the  charac- 
ters—all of  them  interesting  and  worthy  of  acquaintance — arc  por- 
trayed with  great  distinctness.  The  book  is  written  in  an  entertain- 
ing and  vivacious  style,  and  is  destined  to  provide  entertaiumeut  for 
a  large  number  of  readers. — Christian  at  Work,  N.  Y. 

One  of  the  best — if  not  the  very  best — of  the  society  novels  of  the 
season.—  Detroit  Free  Press. 

Of  peculiar  interest  as  regards  plot,  and  with  much  grace  and  fresh- 
ness of  stvle Brooklyn  Times. 

The  plot  has  been  constructed  with  no  little  skill,  and  thn  characters 
— all  of  them  interesting  and  worthy  of  acquaintance — are  portrayed 
with  great  distinctness.— Episcopal  Recorder,  Philadelphia. 

A  clever  and  entertaining  novel.  It  is  wholly  social,  and  the  the- 
atre is  a  small  one  ;  but  the  characters  are  varied,  and  are  drawn  wiih 
a  firm  hand;  the  play  of  unman  passion  and  longing  is  well  denned 
and  brilliant;  and  the  movement  is  effective  and  satisfactory.  .  .  .  The 
love-story  is  as  good  as  the  social  study,  making  altogether  an  uncom- 
monly entertaining  book  for  vacation  reading.  —  Wilmington  (Del.) 
Morning  News. 

PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK. 

&3~  The  above  work  sent  by  mail,  pontage  prepaid,  to  any  part  oj  the 
United  States  or  Canada,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


A  DEMIGOD. 

pp.  338.     16mo,  Cloth,  $1  50. 


The  story  is  wonderfully  clever  and  pleasingly  worked  up,  and  the 
characterization  and  dialogue  are  arranged  with  art  and  taste. — A".  Y. 
Commercial  Advertiser. 

Its  originality  will  secure  for  it  a  wide  reading.— Saturday  Evening 
Gazette,  Boston. 

The  book  is  certainly  a  strong  one,  both  in  its  classical  and  meta- 
physical phases. — Christian  Intelligencer,  N.  Y. 

It  will  find  a  wide  popularity  because  of  its  peculiarities. ...Asa 
novel  it  is  very  exciting  in  incident  and  plot.  .  .  .  The  characters  are 
very  distinct,  and  drawn  with  strength.  . .  .  Cannot  fail  to  instruct,  ami 
be  much  talked  about.— -Boston  Times. 

It  is  a  very  bright,  breezy,  readable  romance. — Hartford  Daily  Cou- 
rant. 

This  is  a  bright  story,  marked  for  its  originality  and  continuing  in- 
terest from  beginning  to  end. — The  State,  Richmond,  Va. 

The  plot  is  ingenious. .  . .  The  descriptions  of  Greek  scenery  are  en- 
thusiastic and  often  eloquent. — N.  Y.  Sun. 

It  is  really  a  capital  story. — Kews  and  Courier,  Charleston,  S.  C. 

It  is  dashing  and  bold,  and,  however  one  looks,  has  a  way  to  nu.ke 
it  talked  about. — Boston  Globe. 

Whether  in  philosophical  treatment  or  in  the  manner  in  which  the 
plot  is  permitted  to  develop,  the  story  is  an  exceptionally  interesting 
one.  .  .  .There  is  genuine  wit  it)  many  of  the  passages.  .  .  .  The  author 
begins  to  deal  with  stirring  events  ;  he  carries  the  reader  along  with 
a  rush,  and  leaves  an  impression  of  descriptive  power  and  dramatic 
construction,  the  advent  of  which  iu  modern  fiction  would  be  gladly 
welcomed. — Philadelphia  Record. 

Tlie  i^picy  way  in  which  the  characters  spin  out  the  thread  of  the 
story  adds  a  special  charm  to  its  minor  details. .  .  .  The  story  is  vastly 
entertaining  and  exciting. — Huston  Herald. 

A  novel  of  singular  power,  and  one  greatly  in  contrast  with  the  char- 
acter of  most  modern  fiction. — Troy  Times. 

It  abounds  in  stirring  incidents,  is  full  of  novelties,  and  is,  besides, 
n  very  charming  love-story,  which  ends  as  all  love-stories  should. 
The  author  has  no  reason  to  send  such  a  book  out  without  a  name  on 
its  title-page. — Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 


PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK. 

The  above  work  sent  by  mail,  postage  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the 
United  Slates  or  Canad  i,  en  rcce.fiit  of  the  price. 


TOWAEDS   THE   GULF. 

A  Romance  of  Louisiana,     pp.  316.     16mo,  Cloth,  $1  00. 


"Towards  the  Gulf  is  a  tale  of  unusual  power,  whether  considered 
with  regard  to  its  literary  or  artistic  merits.  It  is  a  picture  of  a  phase 
of  New  Orleans  life,  at  once  dreamily  poetic  and  vividly  realistic,  rich 
in  curious  and  felicitous  illustrations  of  personal,  social,  and  local 
traits.  The  dramatic  situations  are  strong,  and  are  skilfully  devel- 
.  oped.  The  Creole  dialect  is  well  handled,  and  life  at  a  cotton  planta- 
tion is  portrayed  with  a  fidelity  which  is  both  charming  and  pictur- 
esque— Observer,  N.Y. 

The  story  is  told  with  a  great  deal  of  skill  and  many  touches  of  jus-t 
sentiment.  .  .  .  The  sketches  of  society  and  manners  in  New  Orleans, 
of  life  on  a  river  plantation  after  the  war,  of  negro  peculiarities,  etc., 
are  striking,  and  the  hook  is  distinguished  throughout  by  delicacy  of 
tone. — iV.  Y.  Tribune. 

A  novel  full  of  genuine  interest.  The  pictures  presented  are  varied, 
and  light  and  shade  are  well  blended.  The  descriptive  power  of  the 
author  is  strongly  marked.  .  .  .  The  story  dwells  forcibly  upon  the 
prejudices  and  evil  doings  of  the  men. — Philadelphia  North  American. 

"Towards  the  Gulf"  is  a  story  which  we  have  taken  real  delight  in 
reading.— Hartford  Daily  Courant. 

The  tale  is  simply  yet  powerfully  told.  .  .  .  The  book  is  certainly  one 
of  the  strongest  romances  lately  published,  and  will  gain  for  its  tal- 
ented and  unknown  author  no  small  meed  of  praise.  —  Springfield 
Union. 

The  scenes  are  well  pictured  and  the  characters  are  well  drawn. — 
Troy  Daily  Press. 

Of  that  exceedingly  small  number  of  novels  having  a  flavor  of  its 
own. ...  It  pulsates  with  life.  There  is  color  and  motion,  and  not  only 
all  the  charm  of  individuality,  but  of  locality,  and  of  a  picturesque 
locality  at  that. — Chicago  Herald. 

It  is  something  to  rejoice  over  that  another  star  has  been  added  to 
the  growing  galaxy  of  Southern  writers;  for  it  is  impossible  to  sup- 
pose thfit  any  one  not  Southern  -born  and  bred,  and  imbued  with  all 
the  distinctive  elements  of  Southern  culture,  could  ever  have  written 
this  volume. — Xew  Orleans  Picayune. 


PUBLISIIKD  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YOUK. 

'  The  above  work  sent  by  mail,  postage  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the 
United  States  or  Canada  on  receipt  «f  the  price. 


THE  BREAD-WINNERS. 

A  Social  Study,     pp.  320.     16mo,  Cloth,  $1  00. 


One  of  the  strongest  and  most  striking  stories  of  the  last  ten 
years. . .  .  The  work  of  a  very  clever  man :  it  ia  told  with  many  live- 
ly strokes  of  humor;  it  sparkles  with  epigram;  it  is  brilliant  with 
wit.  .  .  .  The  chief  characters  in  it  are  actually  alive;  they  are  really 
flesh  and  blood;  they  are  at  once  true  nnd  new;  and  they  are  em- 
phatically and  aggressively  American.  The  anonymous  author  has  a 
firm  grip  on  American  character.  He  has  seen,  and  he  has  succeeded 
in  making  us  see,  facts  and  phases  of  American  life  which  no  one  has^ 
put  into  a  book  before.  .  .  .  Interesting,  earnest,  sincere ;  fine  in  its' 
performance,  and  finer  still  in  its  promise.—  Saturday  Review,  London. 

A  worthy  contribution  to  that  American  novel-literature  which  is  at 
the  present  day,  on  the  whole,  ahead  of  our  own. — Pall  Mall  Gazette, 
London. 

Praise,  and  unstinted  praise,  should  be  given  to  "The  Bread-Win- 
ners." — X.  Y.  Times. 

It  is  a  novel  with  a  plot,  rounded  and  distinct,  upon  which  every  epi- 
sode has  a  direct  bearing.  .  .  .  The  book  is  one  to  stand  nobly  the  teta 
of  immediate  re-reading. — Critic,  N.  Y. 

It  is  a  truly  remarkable  book. — A*.  Y.  Journal  of  Commerce. 

As  a  vigorous,  virile:  well-told  American  story,  it  is  long  since  we 
have  had  anything  as  good  as  "The  Bread- Winners."— Philadelphia 
nitlletin. 

Every  page  of  the  book  shows  the  practised  hand  of  a  writer  to 
whom  lung  use  has  made  exact  literary  expression  as  easy  and  spon- 
taneous as  the  conversation  of  some  of  those  gifted  talkers  who  are 
nt  once  the  delight  and  tl:e  envy  of  their  associates.  .  . .  We  might 
mention  many  scenes  which  seem  to  us  particularly  strong,  bnt  if  we 
began  such  a  catalogue  we  should  not  know  where  to  stop. — »V.  Y. 
Tiibune. 

Within  comparatively  few  pnges  a  story  which,  ns  a  whole,  deserves 
to  be  called  vigorous,  is  tersely  told.  . .  .  The  author's  ability  to  de- 
pict the  mental  and  moral  struggles  of  those  who  are  poor,  and  who 
believe  themselves  oppressed,  is  also  evident  in  his  management  of 
the  strike  and  in  his  delineation  of  the  characters  of  Sam  Sleeny,  a 
carpenter's  journeyman,  and  Ananias  Offit,  the  villain  of  the  story. — 
jV.  Y.  Evening  Telegram. 


PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NKW  YORK. 

The  above  uork  sent  by  mail,  postage  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the 
United,  States  or  Canada,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


A  TRANSPLANTED  ROSE. 

By  Mrs.  JOHN  SHERWOOD,  Author  of  "Manners  and  So- 
cial Usages,"  etc.     pp.  308.     16mo,  Cloth,  $1  00. 


A  sprightly,  well-sustained,  and  thoroughly  readable  novel.  .  .  .  The 
character  of  Kose  is  well  drawn.  The  render  finds  her  to  be  what  her 
anut  describes  her  when  she  is  first  introduced— a  "masterful  "  creat- 
ure. Bat  although  masterful,  she  is  full  of  sweetness.  Society  firct 
tolerates  her,  plus  her  green  gloves,  because  of  her  fair  face.  Very 
soon  she  wins  her  way  to  favor  by  her  spirit,  her  frankness,  her  art- 
lessness,  and  her  transparent  amiability. — .V.  Y.  Tribune. 
•  The  book  is  bright  and  entertaining — Christian  Union,  N.  Y. 

The  story,  aside  from  its  plot,  which  is  interesting,  is  a  clever  satire 
on  New  York  society.  The  flirt,  the  politician,  the  parvenu,  the  lady- 
killer,  the  very  yonug  man  aud  the  leader  of  fashion,  are  admirably 
depicted. — Brooklyn  Eagle,  N.  Y. 

The  tone  of  the  book  is  fresh,  breezy,  healthy.  It  is  so  frank  and 
natural  throughout  that  it  does  one  good  to  come  into  contact  with 
the  characters  who  figure  in  its  pages.  —  Utica  Herald,  N.  Y. 

Throughout  the  whole  the  reader  is  entertained  by  the  wit  and 
satire,  the  graphic  portrayal  of  character,  and  the  vivid  description  of 
certain  phases  of  fashionable  life. — Boston -Transcript. 

There  are  clever  touches  in  the  book.  The  vicious  gossips  are  pret- 
ty well  illustrated,  and  the  hunger  of  some  people  for  social  success  is 
fairly  well  set  out.—  Hartford  Courant. 

The  narrative  is  vivacious,  there  is  plenty  of  incident,  and  the  book 
is  very  entertaining. — N.  Y.  Herald, 

It  is  most  interesting.  It  has  humor,  pathos,  and  dramatic  situa- 
tions. All  through  it  are  fine  descriptions,  bright  reflections,  and  wise 
suggestions. — Boston  Globe. 

The  story  is  carefully  finished  in  all  its  details,  and  is  well  adapted 
to  afford  an  insight  into  the  various  phases  of  the  society  in  the  me- 
tropolis that  lives  by  itself  aud  only  for  itself.—  Rochester  Herald. 

The  story  is  cleverly  told,  and  gives  a  picture  of  metropolitan  society 
which  is  realistic  in  the  extreme.  The  author  writes  from  au  intimate 
knowledge;  and  as  she  has  the  gift  of  wit  aud  humor,  portrays  her 
characters  in  graphic  sketches.  A  piquant  undertone  of  satire  serves 
further  to  gratify  the  reader. — Boston  Traveller. 

The  hits  are  decidedly  good.  As  a  whole,  it  is  one  of  the  best  novels 
of  the  season. — Springfield  Union. 


PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK. 

The  above  work  sent  by  mail,  postaye  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the 
United  Slates  <:r  Canada,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


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